By Julie Gordon
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
I lay still beside him until I heard a snore,
then I slipped from the bed and out through the door.
I crept up the hallway and down the front stair;
I tiptoed to the living room to see what was there.
And lo and behold, under the tree,
was a shiny black box labelled to ME!
I pulled and I pried, and as I lifted the lid,
I heard a cough from behind, my husband up from bed.
I stood up and stammered "I-I just couldn't sleep";
"Mm-hm", answered Don, "well that box'll keep".
And so I resigned to go back to bed,
but visions of gifts still danced through my head.
A new dress, a necklace, a crate full of socks;
what could possibly be contained in that box?
A tea set, some perfume, a puppy to keep;
I ran through the options as I drifted to sleep.
In the morning I woke from that sleep with a scream;
creepies and crawlies; I'd had a bad dream.
And then I remembered just what day it was:
December 25th, Christmas, of course!
I ran to the living room to see what I'd get,
but I wasn't prepared for the sight that I met.
There were worms in the carpet, worms on the chairs,
worms in the hallway, worms on the stairs.
Worms hung from the lampshades and climbed up the walls;
they infested the kitchen; they crawled through the halls.
I looked at my husband; on his face was pure shock;
bewildered he wondered "how'd they escape from that box?"
And then I remembered that I'd lifted the lid;
could worms have been what my Christmas box hid?
"Yes", said my hubby, "it's a vermicomposter";
under my breath I muttered "I'd as soon have a toaster".
But alas I was stuck with this so-called 'worm bin',
So I set about getting those worms back in.
And now it's one year later, Christmas eve once again;
my house plants are thriving, I've worm bins times ten.
Yes, it's true, that black gold sure works like a charm;
I can't wait 'til my husband opens his brand new ant farm!