Poem: An ode to Christmases past, present and future

’Twas the night after Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for a mouse.
Piles of debris and throwaway toys
Is all that remained from the wee girls and boys.
Children were nestled all snug in their beds
With cell phones and new apps tucked under their heads.
Sacred icons once shaped with our hands
Now pour in by truckloads from distant lands.
Sadly a setback did Santa befall
As Santa’s new sleigh had just been recalled.
No sledding on hilltops for fear of the vanes.
No landing in meadows, they’re loaded with panes.
If Santa couldn’t make it that would have been fine.
We’d just hit the box stores, or get it online.
Worship in public has long since been banned.
Pagan rooted flames now briskly are fanned.
No child in a manger, it violates code.
We’ll just make do with another abode.
Per health codes a manger is no place to lie.
So to that poor babe we’ll just say goodbye.
From holiday to hollow day, what we once enjoyed,
Cheap imports and nonsense now fill that void.
With cultural, spiritual and historical nonsense finally away,
To one and all, Merry X-Mas and a Happy Hollow Day.
Rustan Swenson

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