'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 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!

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glory b's poetrycorner

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