The Christmans Gift Poem by Gerald Hanners

</>Christmas is just another word for failure, I've always thought.
Just another opportunity to be ridiculed for the things I've bought.
That for which I always yearn is to buy a gift that she doesn't return.
She will accept it with enthusiasm and glee
And exclaim: 'This can't be for me! '
But alas, it's just a dream. Or, so it seems.
She always says: 'The things he buys are always in the wrong size! '
'They never sparkle! They never shine!
'You know he shops at the five and dime!
'He has no class! He has no taste!
'You can tell that he shopped in haste! '
Aahh! But, this year, I have a new plan for the Season.
Envisioned both in rhyme and in reason.
Creative and well conceived,
It will be the most unusual gift she has ever received.
She will unwrap the package, being careful not to tear it
And inside she will find a talking parrot.
And every time she passes the cage,
The parrot will speak like an ancient sage:
'Be grateful for the things you get in life,
'Be ye husband or be ye wife!
'For we will all be in a place someday
'Where things are neither bought nor given away.
'There will be no frills, no buttons, no bows.
'All will wear the same plain clothes.
'Oh, some will get horns and some will get wings
'But there will be no material things.
'So think about this message you have heard.
'This lesson from a talking bird.
'Don't be known for critical ways,
'But appreciate every passing day.
'It's the greatest gift you'll ever receive.
'And, by the way, 'MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM ME! '