Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the house
Came the tap of a keyboard, the click of a mouse.
My head it was hung with deep shame on my chest
As I gazed at the cards to send, all unaddressed.
Once more I had left it too late for the mail
By the time I’d write them, to deliver, I’d fail.
My pen lies forsaken, unused on my table,
The cards in their box, still sealed with their label.
While cards from my friends and my family arrive
And make me feel guilty for those I’ve deprived
Lord knows what they’ll think of me, lazy or mean,
When they see that my card’s not arrived on the scene.
So I’ll write them this poem, of self-deprecation,
And send it to loved ones across all the nation.
Through Facebook, and email, and even my blog,
(Though no-one has read it for weeks, says the log).
“I’m sorry I missed sending cards of good cheer,
Perhaps I’ll do better at Yuletide next year.
So in lieu of a card, to my loved ones I write
‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!'”