all the creatures were stirring (though we don’t have a mouse).
The stockings were hung on the staircase with care,
In hopes that Saint Nicholas would soon be there.
The children were rushing hither and yon,
Visiting friends, buying presents, and eating bon-bons.
And Dad in his flannel shirt, and I in my sweater,
Were working last minute to make Christmas better.
In the kitchen, I’d been baking: cookies and bread
While Dad sawed and created out in the shed.
When out on the yard there arose such a clatter,
I threw open the door to see what was the matter.
Outside on the lawn, dusty grass and limestone
Helped to create a dry, Texas tone.
The wind tossed dried leaves up and around,
And the sun lit up grasses, green and brown.
What to my wondering eye should appear
But a large brown truck drawing quickly near.
With a shorts-clad driver sporting a tan,
I knew in a minute he was the UPS man.
|This is not my UPS man, but an apt photo|
from the Lodi, California website.
He was dressed all in brown from his head to his foot,
His arms were quite brawny from lifting his loot.
His smile was so friendly as he asked if my name
Was Cynthia, and I told him it was the same.
He spoke no more words, but handed it over:
A box filled with presents for all my book lovers.
Stuffing his hand-held device in his pocket,
He turned and was off at the speed of a rocket.
He sprang to his truck, turned the key and backed out,
Waved jauntily out the window as he headed south.
But I heard him exclaim ere he drove round the bend,
“Merry Christmas to you, and to all of your friends!”
|Ashe juniper Christmas tree, cut from our property.|