‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the yard
The snow covered the ground like an icy cold girdle.
Alone at her desk missing kittens that purrdle
Becky made you a gift — A Christmas-y wordle.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s why I don’t call myself a poet. But it’s the thought that counts, eh?
Wishing Joy, Peace, Laughter and Bad Rhyme to you and yours from Beckyland this holiday season!