‘Twas the midst of December--

The Huhns, once again,

Were hosting a dinner,

Inviting their friends.

The décor was simple,

But elegant, too,

And of course, the main dish

Was a gourmet to-do!!

The children were banished;

The grandkids elsewhere:

This party’s for grown-ups!

Cavort without care!

The year’s been a tough one--

Mobility hard,

But Sonya’s still cooking

With butter, not lard.

The cocktails were super,

The hors d’oeuvres superb;

The laundry was hidden--

The image preserved.

Belle smiled a big smile

Tapped toes on the floor,

While other guests coaxed her

To give ‘em some more.

Marge looked astonished

And Mike looked askance

While Belle kept a-trying

To polish her dance.

The limbs weren’t as limber,

The kicks not so high--

But the Rockette experience

Showed in firm thighs.

Then John and Jim switched out

Each table to please,

Both trying to avoid

Any social dis-ease.

While Ron, with his necktie,

And Bonny in heels,

With expandable waistlines

Anticipated the meal!

When out in the kitchen,

There arose such a clatter,

We all were afraid

Sonya’d dropped the meat platter!

Dick paused in his pouring

Of whites in a glass,

Afraid it might be his

Hostess losing class!

And Ron took this moment

To suck on a red,

Hoping no one would see how

 Wine went to his head.

Ken glanced towards the kitchen

Inquiring, “My dear?”

Still showing great confidence

And no sign of fear.

But Bonny ran out

To clean up the kitchen,

While Sonya yelled at her

With typical itching:

“Get out of here now,

I’ve told you before!

No one has entered

My kitchen before!”

Then Mike stood up manfully

His best to recite,

‘Til Belle started giggling

With all of her might.

When Bonny came back

Her face was amazed!

She’d found out the secret

Of Sonya, unfazed:

“Her kitchen’s connected

To Santa’s workshop!

And elves are all working,

Our dinner to chop!

We’ve all worshipped Sonya

And Ken for their style

And now we find out

Who it was all this while!

We’ve given them credit

But where’s credit due?

All this time it’s been Santa

Who’s been feting you!

The guests looked around

At their fabulous evening

And gave not one thought

To hastening their leaving.

“We love Sonya’s ceremony

We love Ken’s high style

We don’t care the secret—

Just relax for awhile!”

Candles lit up the entree

It glistened and gleamed,

While Bernice planned her toasting--

Of New Years she dreamed.

Then Marge read her poem,

And Bernie his rhyme,

While Shirley and Bonny

Struggled to keep time.

There were no belly dancers

No clown-painted faces--

Just full, happy people

Who call the Huhns ACES.

Thereafter, forever,

They toasted Mr. Ken

And gobbled Sonya’s menu

Again and again!

Collins writes from Ocean View.