Twas the day after Christmas, the house was a mess
My old man was snoring, he needed the rest
The stockings were flung over his recliner with care
In hopes the German shepherd wouldn’t shred them there

The Shepherd was dozing in a designer pet bed
as visions of doggie treats pranced through her head
My visions were tie-dye with a John Lennon cap
While my old man seem settled on an all day nap

Near a wall in our bedroom arose a great clatter,
At the foot of the bed I saw the Mad Hatter (Yep, Johnny Depp)
Stay away from your window! Off with your head!
I grabbed all the covers, hid under the bed

A new moon glistened on the silvery snow (SNOW? In California?? )
The Hatter decided he ought to go (skiing? I just don’t know)
Then, far-out, he glimpsed a strange, high -flying sled
Filled with the members of the Grateful Dead

With its old hippie driver, so skinny and hip,
We ( DA HATTER and MOI!) knew in a moment he must be St. Mick (Jagger)
Mick hooted, and pouted, he knew all their names:

”Whoa, Jerry! Whoa, Phil! Whoa, Mickey, you vixen!
Whoa, Bobby, Whoa, Billy, you guys are so blitzen!
Watch out for the porch! Look out for the wall!
Don’t crash away! Crash away! Don’t crash away all!”

The guys grabbed the Mad Hatter, Mick put him to work
He cleaned-up my whole house –he’s not such a jerk.
Mick left with the band, and the Mad Hatter, too
I woke up my old man, what else could I do?

They trudged to their sleigh, the snow was so thick,
They all gave a whistle, including St. Mick
Then happy they flew, so far, far away,
“ Man, Christmas is over, let’s go sleep all day!”
Crazy, huh?
Love, Light, & Laughter to all, Kathleen

(Photo credit: Rosie Mcgee)