Wistful melancholy fills the room,
The excitement of the season wanes.
Each ornament, one by one, goes to the box,
Waiting for the new year to pass,
To a time when they may shine again.
The house will feel uncluttered and clean,
But the festive mood follows the decor,
Out to the garage where it will be stored.
Focus returns to the tasks at hand,
Work, and work, groceries, laundry, more.
Hope the joy sticks around a little though.