I love this week between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day! After the busy time of shopping and gifting and cooking and hosting, it’s wonderful to sink back into the chair of “it’s all over!”
These days do have their hazards, though. This little breakup note to the Christmas leftovers is a poem I wrote a year ago today.
Dear After-Christmas Leftovers
Three days ago before the Christmas feast
I eyed you, in your cling-wrap-covered bowls
and labelled cartons, with anticipation.
On that night I gave your contents unrestricted
access, made a holiday food exception
in all its buttery, crispy, tart and tasty,
poultry, stuffing, cabbage-rolly
glory—then savoured
trifles of cake, eggnog, those very
rich chocolates filled with brandy
melted by sips of creamy
fresh-brewed coffee.
But now I view your half-full cartons
with a different eye, though they still
tease and mock: “A spoonful
of cold dressing, dollop of cranberry
doesn’t really count. Surely you wouldn’t
throw out half a dessert!”
I’m sorry, but I would.
We’ve had our little fling
though just three days ago
I said yes to everything.
© 2017 by Violet Nesdoly (All Rights Reserved)
This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Heidi Mordhorst, who takes us into the wonderful world of trees.
Violet Nesdoly 
I would take your leftovers, Violet! 🙂 You’re making my mouth water.
We didn’t actually end up with leftovers much.
LikeLike
You have to draw the line somewhere, right Violet? I enjoyed your poem and it’s truth!
LikeLike
LOL! Such a perfect poem…..as I wake up knowing that leftover pie is a breakfast waiting for me downstairs in the cold room. Nappy New Year, poet-lady! I love how you capture life with words. You continue to inspire me.
LikeLike
Love this poem. We had Christmas out of town so returned to an empty fridge. I guess your poem is highlighting the upside of that!
LikeLike
I totally relate to your feelings about left-overs. The only thing remaining is a ham bone in the freezer for New Years soup.
LikeLike
Even as we speak there is a slice of my mother’s homemade Mince Pie calling to me from under it’s foil blanket keeping out the fridge’s cold.
LikeLike
LOL I love this. Especially, “buttery, crispy, tart and tasty,/ poultry, stuffing, cabbage-rolly/ glory”. Yum. You had me at buttery. 🙂
LikeLike
Even your leftovers are tantalizing! We didn’t have much leftovers, but I don’t feel a bit guilty about throwing them out when I can share them with my chickens!
LikeLike
Hahaha! We are in the same boat, emptying out cartons & bowls in odd combinations & calling it adventurous. At least we don’t have to cook!
LikeLike
I am giggling saying ME TOO! Nibbling away, knowing it is time to stop. Time to break up. Time for a cup of tea. Thank you for making me not feel alone! Enjoy those last bites and your new relationship with food for next week. Hee hee! Happy 2018! xx
LikeLike
We have sweets in a variety of places, but the leftover “other” is long gone with a teenager visiting! I love this ode, Violet, and the use of “fling”. It is true, isn’t it? We deny little at this time of year! Happy New Year!
LikeLike
I wrote this companion tanka a couple of days ago!
Holiday fridge:
two half-filled bottles of wine,
one leek, heavy cream.
Let’s finish the leftovers
and start fresh with simple fare.
LikeLike
We are all facing the same challenge–our fling with excess–
“all its buttery, crispy, tart and tasty,
poultry, stuffing, cabbage-rolly
glory” and the need to rein things in again. I’m happy to keep my tree up through Jan. 6 at least, but Jan 1 is the cutoff for cookies!
LikeLike
Fun poem and I love how it ends, sending them all on their way!
“throw out half a dessert!
I’m sorry, but I would.
We’ve had our little fling”
Happy New Year Violet!
LikeLike
Oh, I must admit, I’m guilty of throwing the leftover goodies out before I really need to! I reach the point of no return, I’m afraid! This was a fun poem to share. Happy New Year, Violet!
LikeLike