‘Twas days before Christmas
And all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even my spouse.
The chickens were nestled
All snug in their beds,
While visions of juicy worms
Danced in their heads.
Balloons were hung on the ceiling with care,
In the hopes that our grandchildren
Soon would be there.
And I in my Santa hat,
And Dave in his socks,
Were roaming the house,
And checking the locks.
When out on the lawn
There arose a great noise.
“What is it?” I wondered.
It’s our grandboys!
With balloons on their heads,
And balloons on their ears,
They made me laugh so,
It brought me to tears.
Our granddaughter, too, got into the act.
And looked just as funny,
It’s a matter of fact.
Little boys wrestling.
Little boys giggling.
Little boys laughing,
And little boys wiggling.
They were silly and fun.
Quite funny I’d say.
I love them so much,
I could watch them all day.
But then in a twinkling,
They had to go home.
Which gave me the idea,
To write this new poem.
But I heard them exclaim,
As they drove out of sight.
“We’ll be back soon, Grandma. We love you. Good Night!”