(Dulce, with some apologies to John Rutter)
There has been cleaning and packing and painting
Dust and fur tumbleweeds vacuumed away
Momma has wrestled a piece of the forest
Into the parlor and now decorates.
Gloria! Gloria!
Who is this person?
Gloria! Gloria!
What’s with this tree?
Gloria! Gloria!
This is quite confusing
There’s all this fuss, but it’s not about me.
I like the smell of this piece of the forest
I like the taste of the fruitcake and cheese
I like the people who offer to scritch me
They all seem tame and seem eager to please.
Gloria! Gloria!
Why inflate this mattress?
Gloria! Gloria!
It’s in my way!
Gloria! Gloria!
Out of Momma’s office!
Go sing more songs about babies in hay.
After the fussing, the feasting, and singing
After the guests have fin’lly gone away
Momma and Other Mom sit sipping eggnog
Smiling at sparklies and watching me play.
Gloria! Gloria!
Eggnog and day old!
Maybe that isn’t quite
What all they say?
Gloria! Gloria!
Someone was born!
Gloria! Gloria!
I can sleep near Momma
The house is quiet
And Momma is warm.