24 December, 2013

Twas the night before Christmas


Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring (the fish was asleep), not even a mouse (all dead).

The stockings were hung by the fireplace with care,

In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.


The child was nestled all snug in his bed,

While visions of Ritz crackers danced in his head.

And daddy in his Guinness pjs, and I in my VS nightie,

Had just settled our tired brains for a short winter’s nap.


When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the curtains and opened the blinds.


The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
(again)
Gave the lustre of mid-day to my neighbor's broken playhouse below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a red Mercedes-Benz sleigh, and eight very well fed reindeer.


With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!


“Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”


As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.


And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.


He was dressed all in Fendi fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were not tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of Toys and Electronics he had flung on his back,

And he didn’t look like a peddler, just opening his pack.


His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.


The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath (I had to open the window after).

He had a broad face and a huge round belly,

That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!


He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I smiled when I saw him, in spite of myself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.


He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all three stockings, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!


He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”


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