Friday , 15 December 2017

Merry Christmas to the Ladies!

Merry Christmas! I have to confess: I don’t know who wrote the following poem. It was sent to me by a dear friend. So, thanks to the anonymous author. I can’t take credit. But as it spoke to me (read: made me laugh my coffee out of my nose), I figured you might enjoy it. As your McKinney Momma, I dedicate this one to you, females: the ones who really make the season bright.             

                              If I were ol’ Santa, you know what I’d do
                              I’d dump silly gifts that are given to you
                              And deliver some things just inside your front door
                              Things you have lost, but treasured before.

                              I’d give you back all your maidenly vigor,
                              And to go along with it, a neat tiny figure.
                              Then restore the old color that once graced your hair
                              Before rinses and bleaches took residence there.

                              I’d bring back the shape with which you were gifted
                              So things now suspended need not be uplifted.
                              I’d draw in your tummy and smooth down your back
                              Till you’d be a dream in those tight fitting slacks.

                              I’d remove all your wrinkles and leave only one chin
                              So you wouldn’t spend hours rubbing grease on your skin.
                              You’d never have flashes or queer dizzy spells,
                              And you wouldn’t hear noises like ringing of bells.

                              No sore aching feet and no corns on your toes,
                              No searching for spectacles when they’re right on your nose.
                              Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny,
                              From a doctor who thinks you’re a nervous old granny.

                              You’d never have a headache, so no pills would you take.
                              And no heating pad needed since your muscles won’t ache.
                              Yes, if I were Santa, you’d never look stupid,
                              You’d be a cute little chick with the romance of a cupid.

                              I’d give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle,
                              And the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle.
                              But alas! I’m not Santa. I’m simply just me,
                              The matronest of matrons you ever did see.

                              I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I’ve got,
                              But I’m due at my doctor’s for an estrogen shot.
                              Even though we’ve grown older, this wish is sincere,
                              Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year.
 

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