The beagles dogpiled in their bedding downstairs
While scents of Christmas cookies lingered in the air.
And Bev in her jammies and I in the buff
Took shelter in our bedroom doing adult stuff.

When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter
We’re together this year, I can’t be bothered with such matters.
Away from the window I kept so as not to flash
Any passing traffic that might glance up and see my my bare asssssh.

When what do my wondering eyes should appear
No miniature sled, no eight tiny reindeer.
No little old driver.  Not lively, nor quick.
No thoughts of humor I must be feeling sick.

Many years in the past, I’ve had this time all alone
And spent Christmas Eve night re-writing this poem
Tonight we’re together as husband and wife.
My heart is fulfilled with the love of my life.

And so, my dear friends I’m cutting this short.
Iambic pentameter?  Don’t make me snort.
I’m late for loving (yes?!) and don’t need that fight
So Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!