'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 girth---
I said to myself,
as I only 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 chip
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 only
to chew 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!