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A Christmas Eve Poem

There are nineteen balusters
In our balustrade.
I painted them all orange today
Each one a different shade.

Actually that’s not true.
I painted sets of two
In alternating hue.

This tortured verse
Has gone from bad to worse
But do not curse
My name.

I plan to have a merry Christmas
And hope you will do the same.

Published inHoly Daze

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