The Paper Lay Waiting

         'Twas the night before Christmas, time to wrap all the gifts

         in a marathon session fuelled by candy and grit.

         The paper lay waiting rolled tight on big tubes;

         santas, snowmen, and angels in green, reds, and blues.

         Some of it shiny foil, and some of it tissue

         waiting to be measured and cut into issue.

         The scissors were ready, lots of tape was at hand,

         now to find the end piece, and pull it free on demand.

         The bright bows were nearby to be arranged on the top

         of all the surprises wrapped beautifully by Pops.

         He's really a master , folds each corner with care.

         My present attempts are disheveled like my hair.

         I wrestle with paper that crumples and creases.

         Pop has the calm flair to smooth out all his pieces.

         My expertise is to address each of the tags,

         and to pull all the gifts from their various bags.

         Each C-eve we struggle at this festive event

         to squelch our Yuletide misgivings that we over spent.

         From the chaos and sparkling confetti litter

         we rise to stretch, and in vain, brush loose the glitter.

         Pops has proven himself Father Christmas once more.

         Gifts transformed to magic enchanting the room's floor. ( 22 lines )