I'm running around with stains on my blouse.
I chew on my lip, pencils shoved in my hair,
breathing as though I can't get any air.
"The gifts are not finished" my hubby had said,
"but nevertheless I am going to bed!"
I thought homemade gifts would be done in a snap
and they'd help us escape from the big buying trap.
"You're so good at crafts" my friends all did flatter
but now I'm facing Christmas looking paler than batter.
So in my last tries to give gifts with flash
I'm staying up all night though I'm sure I will crash.
Tonight these presents I've worked on below
will be wrapped 'neath the tree with hope and some show.
But what is the thing that right now I most fear?
That no gift from me will bring joy or a tear.
For some gifts were made badly, a little too quick
and some were found by a husband who's slick.
No matter the outcome the mantras are the same,
"it's the thought that counts" and "what's in a name?"
So on I keep working (though by noon I might fall)
to provide pretty presents for one and for all.
Oh yes I'll keep hoping, I really will try,
and pray that one gift will cause a smile or a sigh.
But now I must leave, and bid you adieu-
Who knows? I might be working on a present for you....