The Week Before Christmas

Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings weren’t hung * and the chimneys were bare
And noone expected St Nick to be there
My dad and Theresa all snug in their beds
At 7 at night, all pyjamaed and fed
And the cat on my pillow, and I at the desk
Were still wide awake, no time for a rest
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
It must be the neighbour, who fell off his ladder
Away to the window I flew like a bird,
If the neighbour was hurt, he hadn’t uttered a word
The streetlights, they shone on the rain on the road
Makes one think of oil, or grease on a toad**
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a very small child, just a quaking with fear
Holding tight to their papers, their music, I saw
I knew they must have encountered my ‘Pa
Not asleep, as I thought, but downstairs by the door
Caused the carolers’ jaws to drop to the floor
More rapid than eagles his curses they came
And he whistled and shouted, and called them some names
“Hey you there, the short one, and fat kid, and you!
Hey pansy-boy, singer-girl, Fluffy, and Boo.
Get off of my porch, get out of my hall
Now run away, run away, run away, all…”
The children took off, and my dad went upstairs
I went to my desk, and sat down on the chair
To ponder this Christmas, a different sort
No lights, a small tree, no snow for a fort…
My presents are wrapped, by the closet, with care
In hopes that some spirit might fix all disrepair
So in secret I sit, with a radio tuner
And hope carols might make Christmas come sooner….

Guess what, guys…Christmas is in 7 days. Aren’t you excited?

* They aren’t hung because WE DON’T HAVE ANY
** Haven’t YOU ever seen a greasy toad? You’re missing out.