This is Gertrude, 77
She shoplifts all her Christmas gifts
For her daughter’s growing brood
Though wrinkled benign
With gentle lively eyes
And soft knit cap
She’s sneaky sly and done the time
Using her shopping cart like a walker
She slows near a big talker
And whisks under her folds
Whatever his cart holds
Blindfolded at home she manages to wrap it
And signs it to herself, Gertrude from her mysterious Santa
This is what it’s come to each Xmas eve
Her colorful lights and booming merry corny tunes meant to deceive
And this year Sheila and all will get nothing
In the new year she’ll go straight, pay full price
From a job at Nickels N Dice