Christmas cookies on the platter,
Cooling while our Mom gets madder,
She loves making MOABs fatter
Waiting drives her mad as hatters.
Time goes by and things get badder,
Stilly tiptoes, pitter-patter,
Janie, Bunn and Hawk all flatter
Other Moms, while ours grows sadder.
And Rapaire, that midnight padder,
Shun like fat-cat cad her
Wishes, leaves her feelings flatter,
Drinking, laughing, making chatter,
Where the power-dollars clatter.
Meanwhile, my heart just grows gladder,
Looking at that Xmas platter!
Back above I quickly sat her,
At the top, our stalwart Mater!
Up from the pit of past's dark adders,
Come, now friends! Now up and at her!
End your nounless nabob natter,
Make your neighbors cease their pratter,
Talk of Rome, Tehran or Qatar,
Come! Help Mom back up the ladder!