“’twas the Sunday, just a day or two, away, from the holiday ” Gun Roswell

A day or two, before X-mas

Seemingly calm
On the outside, but be warned
It’s hotter than hell
Inside where it smells
Just like the holiday is blaring
And upon us without a fair warning
The house is a mess of people and things
Everyone is running, no stopping to sing
The hustle and bustle
Of cooking, cleaning and if you must know
It’s too damned busy
For any kind of seasonal spirit
Not today, not tomorrow
But when the Eve is upon
Then without any sorrow
We all settled down
Sit quietly around the table
Tell another Christmas fable
As the calm has finally descended
And all the work ended