A Sangria Sisters Original Poem
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
The martinis were stirred, the Sisters were soused.
My stockings had runs there were knots in my hair,
December exhausts me I’m too tired to care.
I was nestled all snug with a bottle of red,
Had enough of the children so I sent them to bed.
The heel of the wine should have been my nightcap,
But Santa’s damn presents were waiting for wrap.
Still so much to do, put down the cheese platter,
Top up my Bailey’s, it’s time to get at ‘er.
The whole family is coming it will be a big bash,
So back to the kitchen there’s potatoes to mash.
I’m feeling quite joyous, my cheeks are aglow,
I’m lit from within, must be the Merlot.
Sarcasm is flowing I’m wearing a sneer,
Refill my glass it’s time for a beer.
Santa’s not helping he’s being a dick,
I’m all stressed out where the hell is St Nick.
Thank god for the booze it’s keeping me sane,
In a slightly slurred speech I loudly proclaim.
On vodka, on soda, on blender, on mixer,
On tonic, on ginger, the golden elixir.
Step out on the porch lean against the wall,
Inhale the fresh air and hope I don’t fall.
What the fuck, an old man is up on my roof,
Pull out the cell phone I’ve got to get proof.
His sleigh and reindeer have docked without sound,
Perhaps I’m just pissed from the hooch that I’ve downed.
Dressed in bright red with black boots on each foot,
He winked and he whispered for me to stay put.
Down the chimney he squeezed with toys on his back,
I’ve been naughty quite often, was he keeping track.
I had cookies and milk but he was off dairy,
His preference was scotch or a stiff Bloody Mary.
He received my wish list and wanted to know,
Was I being nice or a ho, ho, ho.
He reached in his bag and gave me a nod,
His attention was flattering to this old broad.
He pulled from his sack a bottle of white,
Said, “At Christmastime it helps to be tight.”
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good wine.
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