Feastive Season, Festive Air.
That’s another Christmas meal complete,
Once again I’ve had far too much to eat,
Now here I sit, heavily settling in my seat,
Next, the dessert round, but first, the prickly heat.
I swore this year to avoid Ma’s tasty treat
But World Peace demands I keep her sweet,
And as the belt on my pants buckles in defeat-
Same ol’ story as last year, I’m bound to repeat.