A CHIN
CHRISTMAS

It's the day before Christmas
And all through the house
The puppies are squeaking
An old rubber mouse.

The wreath which had cheerfully
Hung on the door
Is scattered in pieces
All over the floor.

The stockings so lovingly hung
Hanging in rows
Now boast a hole in
Each one of the toes.

The tree was subjected
To bright eyed whims,
and now, although splendid,
Is missing some limbs.

I catch them and hold them
Be good, I insist,
They lick me, then run off
To see what they've missed.

And now as I watch them
The thought comes to me
That theirs is the spirit
That Christmas should be.

Should children and puppies
Yet show us the way
And teach us the joy that
Should come with this day?

Could they bring the message
That's written above
And tell us that, most of all,
Christmas is love!