Christian Christmas Poems

Christmas Love

Christmas Bells 1864

Christmas Wish for You

Timeless Christmas Message

The Magic of Christmas

Jesus is Better Than Santa

The Gift Of Christmas

A Star Shown Above

Advent Epidemic Poems

The Village Poem

Sweet Babe Jesus Poem

The Christmas Gift Poem

Jesus' Birthday Poem

Christmas Cake Poem

Week Before Christmas

Our Jesus From Galilee

His Humble Birth Poem

When I Dream of Christmas

Missing You At Christmas

Christmas Greetings

The First Christmas Lights

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Fun Christmas Poems

Rudolph's Awesome Yule Rule

The Boy Who Laughed at Santa Claus

The Last Christmas Tree

Month Before Christmas

Hanging Baby's Stocking

Hanging round the Mistletoe

Gingerbread Man in a Pan

Snowball Fight Poem

Reindeer Rule Poem

It's A Computer Christmas

Holiday Diet Poem

Peace on Earth Poem

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Country Christmas Poems

Christmas in our Town

Quest for the Festive Bough

A Country Christmas

A Cowboy Christmas Poem

Cowboy's Christmas Prayer

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Christmas Poems
for our Military

Christmas Remembrance

On Watch Tonight Poem

A Soldiers Christmas Poem
Merry Christmas My Friend

The Month After Christmas Diet Poem

'Twas the month after Christmas,
and all through the house
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the eggnog I'd taste at the holiday parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales
there arose such a number!
When I walked to the store
(less a walk than a lumber).
I'd remember the marvelous meals I'd prepared;

The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese
And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
As I dressed myself in my husband's old shirt
And prepared once again to do battle with dirt---
I said to myself, as only I can
" You can't spend a winter disguised as a man! "



So--away with the last of the sour cream dip,
Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chips

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
" Till all the additional ounces have vanished.
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!"