I am still painting, but WISH to stop!

The paintings are hung on the walls with care,

And just as we hoped, the buyers were there.

Kirklyn taps away on the computer all day,

Then schleps a painting and whisks it away.

Kelly turned 50 and wouldn’t ya know,

It’s down hill now, I told her so!

When out on the block arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the easel to see what was the matter.

Away to the window only to find,

John Harrell as Santa, he’s one of a kind!

The moon on the breast of absolutely NO snow,

The Washington Park Grille is all aglow.

Kit and Anita still have brushes in hand,

We need inspiration, strike up the band!

The chaos won’t stop, the shopping’s not done,

Where are the elves? Son of a gun!

I need them right now, there’s stuff left to do,

3 last paintings, then buy a gift or 2?

Not one thing is wrapped, cuz nothing is bought

Power shopping ahead, before I’m distraught.

Meditation, they say, will calm us all down,

Not cuss in traffic all over town?

Nothing a little glass of cheer won’t cure,

Pace is the key, that’s for sure…

Enough of this poem, but you DID read this far….

What can I say, calling Onstar.

Happy Holidays to all & toast the New Year!

Thanks for reading my poem, silly and queer.