The Eyes of The Elf (a chilling poem about redirected judgment)
The Eyes of The Elf
Once upon a wintry day,
A tiny, blue-eyed fellow looked my way.
I'd heard rumors about this magical elf.
Mamas kept declaring, "He should be on your shelf!"
His job, this Elf, was to keep a close eye
On my children, to be sure nothing bad he did spy.
Then straight to Santa he'd report
And hopefully my children would behave like good sports.
Suddenly, raw, chilling images I did see.
What if during the night the Elf turned his blue eyes on me?
Somethings I do might be deemed a bit shoddy,
Some might even consider them quite naughty!
He'd wait quietly after his nighttime patrol
And sit high on the back of my porcelain bowl.
At 8:15 in the morning he'd say with a look...
The next day he'd cunningly make his way
To the back of my refrigerator and patiently stay.
Then while moving the lettuce, shielding my face from view...
Fearfully I'd start to look all about,
I would not see him, today he's not out.
Pulling into my drive after 3 stores that I dread...
And as assuredly as birds live in nest
The next night, on top of my pillow he'd rest.
As my husband gives me the come hither stare...
So I will not welcome that Elf in my home
To drag my December through a fine toothed comb!
Because like our offspring, we too act like kids.
And if Santa knew, OUR gifts he'd forbid!