Can any of us relate to this poem?? I knew there were some stamping poems out there, from many years ago, and after searching I found this one in a forum from 2005! I don’t think the Demonstrator knew where it came from, it was shared with her from others, so I have no idea who came up with it, but they knew what they were talking about! I can think of one dear stamping friend in particular, but I think it applies to most of us! (Except for those people who had their cards done last summer! But what fun is that?!)
Enjoy! And have a Happy Christmas Eve!
The Week Before Christmas (In a Stamper’s House)
‘Twas the week before Christmas, and the house was a hush
Save the stamping of rubber in a last minute rush.
The cardstock was cut with precision and care
In hopes that a greeting would soon be stamped there.
The children were tucked in their beds around eight,
But now it’s ten-thirty… How’d it get so late?
And I in my PJs with bleary red eyes
Had finally arranged all the stamping supplies.
It started out simple. (It does every year.)
Just make a few cards for friends who are dear.
I pressed ink to paper. (It looked crisp and clean.)
A sprinkle of powder, heat to a sheen.
When what on my green Christmas card should appear?
Why, a tiny gold Santa with sleigh and reindeer.
On pigment! On powder! On heat from a gun!
Now ribbon and glitter! Can I make eighty-one?
“I can do it!” I said with all of my might
And looked at the clock – ’twas well past midnight.
I went straight to stamping out card after card.
“This might take all night, but at least it’s not hard.”
But after I finished, they looked a bit lame.
I didn’t want fancy, but these were too plain.
And then in a twinkling, a thought came to mind.
“I’ll just dress them up, and then they’ll be fine.”
So I went to my craft room and looked all around,
Then back to the table with all that I’d found.
My Fiskars I brandished (I wasn’t a quitter),
And soon I was covered in EP and glitter.
The cap of a marker I held in my teeth.
I’d lay in some color or maybe gold leaf.
My broad little face was all beaded with sweat,
But I wouldn’t give up – well, not at least yet.
There was glue on the table and ink on the floor.
I laughed at the sight though my fingers were sore.
I did not complain, just kept up my work.
When more things went wrong, I did not go berserk.
When finally finished, one card about six,
It looked pretty good after all of my tricks.
I’m keeping this one. My work on it shows.”
So clutching my card, up the stairs I arose.
I crawled into bed at the crack of dawn,
Creativity all spent, motivation all gone.
But make no mistake, I promise one thing:
You’ll all get your cards, but not ’til next spring!
–Author Unknown