Caney's day after Christmas

[Caneyscud]

Caney's Day After Christmas

Twas the day after Christmas, when all through the house
Not a thing would fit me, leaving much for me to grouse.
Every year it seems it wouldn't be a surprise,
The same need to exchange for comfy oversize.

The guests, satisfied, snoring, shoed in new Keds.
With visions of pulled pork dancing in their heads.
On Christmas Eve brisket and butts were devoured
For Christmas - fajitas were grilled at a late snowy hour.

When from the master bedroom there arose such a racket,
I sprang from my discomfort and tore the pocket on my new jacket.
Away to the toilet I flew like a flash,
Not caring at all scattering all the Christmas trash!

From the White Throne with relief so effectively achieved
A sense of more holding ability I vividly perceived.
Bring on the rum cake, the candy and pecan pie ,
Bring on the eggnog and the pies with meringue piled high.

A big jolly fat guy, hair so lovely and gray,
The mischievous Caney pulled from the oven the chocolate soufflé!
More rapid than eagles his guests they awoke,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Tommy! now Natalie! now, Beth and now Tim!
On, Travis! On, Alley!, all decked with bright trim!
To the front door! To the end of the walk!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

Unlike blowing dead leaves, my memory is quite vivid,
Of the shrimp and sauces and brisket so fervid,
Of the fudge and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never did say, "No thank you, please."

All I'd enjoyed, I'd tasted -  had gone to my waist.
For bad news I knew I must be well  braced.
When I got on the scales there arose such a number!
That I had to get off – good memories no need to encumber..

Caney in his Chair, all comfy from his head to his foot,
His clothes were all tarnished with pork fat and soot.
The weight of guilty pleasures like a smokin' monkey on his back,
Took up a new cookbook, really wanting to Wii and a light midnight snack!

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like smoke rings, his nose like a chocolate covered cherry!
His wry big mouth was set all somber and stern,
He knew full well what was coming, all the calories he'd have to burn.

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
" Till all the additional ounces have vanished".
Why you might ask – notice his not so little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old stickburner,
Everybody laughed when they saw him, he was not a head turner!
So--away with the last of the fruitcake and boiled custard,
Gone is the fudge pie, the nuts and sweet popcorn all clustered.
,
Caney spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the empty containers, then turned with a jerk.
I won't have a cookie--not even a lick.
I'll want to chew only 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!"

[BuyLowSellHigh]

 ;D   ;D   ;D

Incredibly well done!

[OldHickory]

Well done Caney, you have said in verse what I feel. 

[jiggerjams]

That is a nice piece of writing Caney. Well done.

[Caribou]

 :D :D :D
Caney, you're such a great poet!
I'm breaking out the celery sticks  :D
Carolyn

[beefmann]

well said caney

[Tenpoint5]

I on the other hand was told to watch my weight. So I am going to get it out there where I can see it!!

[SouthernSmoked]

Well said!