THE DIETER'S
MONTH AFTER CHRISTMAS
'Twas the month after Christmas,
and all through the house,
Nothing would fit me,
not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled,
the eggnog I'd taste,
At the holiday parties
had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales
there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store
(less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous
meals I'd prepared,
The gravies and sauces
and beef nicely rared.
The wine and the rum balls,
the bread and the cheese,
And the way I'd never said,
"No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself
in my husband's old shirt,
And prepared once again
to do battle with dirt.
I said to myself,
as I only can,
"You can't spend a winter
disguised as a man!"
So--away with the last
of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake,
every cracker and chip.
Every last bit of food
that I like must be banished,
'Till all the additional
ounces have vanished.
I won't have a cookie--
not even a lick,
I'll want only to chew
on a long celery stick.
I won't have hot biscuits,
or corn bread, 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 giggle,
no longer a riot,
Happy New Year to all
and to all a good diet!
LINKS
ICQ Random Thoughts and Greetings
Holiday Pages
