December Poem by sylvia spencer

The trempreture drops and the nights are cold
It's the very last month and the years grown old.
December the month full of laughter and cheer
but on the whole has it been a good year, so you
open a bottle or drink a glass of beer and hope
that the next year runs without fear.
December a month for carol singing and the joys
of Christmas with bells a ringing.
Christmas trees surrounded by presents that
are plenty but that question remains strictly
elementary.Chrismas is a time for giving, but some
of the giving spoils the living. December is a month
where we shop untill we dropp and the shopkeepers till
never seems to stop. Department stores with early
sales, clothes on the floor that have fallen from the rails.
Pushing and shoving just to get the best, oh how
December puts us to the test. A stressful month that's
to be sure, when you try to stop the kids from opening
the door of a secret place where you have hidden
presents by the score.
When December is over the air is clear you can then
look forward to a happy new year. Then when the bills
come in the panic attacks start, because the new year
brings you one stressful overdrarft.