The rhyming of gifts is a difficult matter,
Trickiest of all the holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you a gift must have THREE different rhymes.
First of all there's the rhyme for the family
A stanza or two, short, full of wit
Finish it off with something silly
Giving a nod to the contents of it.
Next, there is the rhyme for the giver
Something pithy, technically sublime
Keeping a rhyme, a rhythm, and a meter
To really show off your poetry line by line
Finally, there is the rhyme for the porridge
To be spoken should you find the almond this year
Tradition-laden, and meant to be horrid
With rhymes that are stretched and stanzas quite frayed.
When you notice your kin in profound meditation
The reason, I tell you, is always the same
Eir mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of eir rhyme
Eir ineffable effable
Deep and inscrutable singular rhyme.