All I Want for Christmas

Last Christmas,
I devoured a mouth-watering Panettone with a golden crust.
The sumptuous tea buffet at Ritz-Carlton was, as always, a gust.
I came home dreading the few extra inches around my bust,
Exercising from dawn till dusk.

This year,
to save me from weight fear,
I am hit with chicken pox in its full flutter.
Makes this already ailing soul and body all the weaker
and this festive season so much sadder.
The teas and cakes no longer matter,
For Santa,
All I ever want for Christmas is your comforting whisper,
Telling agnes and her little helper:
We shall all feel better and merrier,
Now and forever.


Merry Christmas!