The Holiday Sump It’s an unusual feeling, a quirk of the heart, We need to give of ourselves, nowhere to start The means by which we give, it does cost money, In the back of our minds, something special for the "honey" As we search the aisles, in a last minute panic, You feel as if you’re the last on the Titanic! We hope and we pray, someone’s looking as hard, For that piece that fits the steed in the yard! "It’s chaos!" you think, your thoughts run deliriously, Hoping the Clerk in the aisle, will take your words seriously You think that you’ve had it,when your mind goes "Ker thump!" "Nah, you’ll survive", it’s just the Holiday Sump!