Christmas Lights

Twas the night before the day after Thanksgiving,

which is the day David festoons our house for Christmas.

All through the house, strings of lights and extension cords were strewn about. 

Nails and gutter clips were hung with care, in the hopes that an extension ladder would soon be there.

David was snug in his bed, as visions of LED lights flashed in his head.

Meanwhile I tossed and turned in fright, envisioning the size of my electric bill. 

I was awoken in the morning by the clatter and banging of a ladder as David climbed, hung, tugged and jerked as he wired the house.

I ventured out to watch the chaos as he cursed and muttered at the unending knot of lights.

"I don't want it to look like Santa threw up on my house!" I warned trying to catch his maniacal eye.

Throughout the day, he cried and crowed, as our house became even more adorned. 

Finally, twelve hours later as dusk neared, I heard the door creaking open. "Come see," he said with a wide grin.

Fretfully I exited my house, fearful of the grand reveal.

With a drum roll and a flick of a switch, I heard a transformer blow, as his Christmas vision was born.

My house looked like it was on fire with all of that glaring brightness!

"On red, on yellow, on green and don't forget blue!" David giggled.  "And look, it goes purple, and flashes, and chases as some color clashes."

"It goes fast, and slow, and fades and swirls, all thanks to these LED nodes!" 

I stared in part awe and horror, and I swear I heard a plane's approach. 

The lights twinkled and twirled in David's loving gaze as I kissed him on the cheek and said "Well done, babe."  

As I ventured back inside my florescent, flashing, technicolor house, I heard him shout, “Happy Christmas to all, and don't mind our bright house!"