A kaleidoscope of paper,
Tied with ribbons and with bows,
Cover parcels by the dozen,
Sat before me, all in rows.
I will wait till after supper,
Will not open them till ten,
For anticipation is healthy,
I will practice zen till then.
Sat the parcels on my bed,
And squeezed them just a little,
But the contents remain secret,
I hope none of them are brittle.
Turned each over in my hands,
Gosh the wrapping’s really loose,
And the ribbons fall off easy,
At least, that is my excuse.
Wow! My presents are all brilliant,
They’re opened up at last,
So I guess that’s just in time,
To go and eat breakfast.
(Copyright Stuart Macfarlane)