A poem about the Cherubs of the snow |
Cherubs Cherubs of the snow, each year we are christened. Birthed from the magical flakes, of snow that glisten Maxim, Maurice, Monica, and Mo, short for Maureen We are always propped up at every Christmas scene And we're bluntly inserted into every Holiday theme Make believe wishers, once upon the star of a child's dream But come December 31st, we're pushed rudely aside Just To make room for the New Year's naked sprite Given only a month to tout the season, grants this poem reason As we linger in the clouds, in the many months off-season. Little cherubs that we are, stuffed with a plethora of personality. Scant time are we allotted, to explore our true identity We are who we are, but no one calls us by name No differences noted, no gender assigned, we have little fame Has anyone happened to notice, the cuteness we bring? That our cheerful smiles, make the world want to sing? Allow me to introduce the members, of our snowy group Maxim is the first in line, and proud of his furry hat slightly swooped Maurice is quite the character, with always a quip or a joke to bestow He makes me laugh and he is ever at the ready to put on a good show Monica is brave and kind, and forever a friend On her help, her heart, and her smile, you can depend My name is Mo, and I'm at the end of the frosty line I like crisp blowing snow, cold winter nights, trees made of pine So here is my plea, just get to know our little story All that we ask, is for a bit more glory May we please be allowed enjoyment, of the entire winter? Before you permit the naked-butt wonder, to promptly enter Just look at the smiles on the faces, of this jolly troop We can't be replaced by one glorious day of baby poop. Please, keep our merriment alive, and don't be swayed We just hope and we pray, not to be crushed by the snowplow's blade. Word count 344 |