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Sharon Canfield Dorsey – ‘Twas The Week After Christmas

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‘Twas the week after Christmas, all through the house,
not a thing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste
at holiday parties had gone to my waist.

I remember marvelous meals all prepared,
the gravies and sauces, the beef nicely “rared.”

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese,
the way that I NOT ONCE said, “No, thank you, please.”

Away with the last of the sour cream dip.
Get rid of the fruitcake, all crackers and chips.

Each bite of food that I like must be banished,
‘til all of the extra ounces have vanished.

I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick.
From now on, I’ll chew on a celery stick.

I won’t eat hot biscuits or cornbread or pie.
I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore,
but isn’t that what January is for?

Unable to laugh…no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all, to all a good diet!

Sharon Canfield Dorsey
January, 2020

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