A twist on an old Christmas tradition with no offense intended.
It was the night before ‘gimme day’, when all through the house
Not a Windows Surface was stirring, not even a Barbie I Can Be Dollhouse;
The Hallmark synthetic stockings were placed on the kitchen table with not much care,
In hopes that presents from Walmart Lay-a-way soon would be there;
The rug rats were snoozing from their sugar-high in their beds;
While visions of X-boxes fought in their heads;
And Mom just finished presents all in a wrap,
Snuggling in our king sized Tempur-Pedic for a short winter’s nap,
When out on the subdivision street there arose such a clatter,
I stretched and wobbled from my bed to see what was the matter.
In no way did I remind myself of DC’s The Flash,
I lazily open the blinds and got the wife’s backlash.
The moon on the small patch of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a reflection of midday to objects below,
When what to my sleep deprived eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,
With a senior citizen so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than a Corvette 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, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the patio! to the top of the garden wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As drones with a newbie learning controller fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of electronics, and Santa too—
And then, as fast as I can Google, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I was thinking maybe Will Ferrell’s Elf was right, thoughts all buzzing around,
Down the chimney a red and white suited man came with a bound.
He was dressed all in synthetic fabric, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
An overflowing of Disney Frozen dolls and Legos he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a homeless person just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like Cover Girl lip gloss, his nose like a cherry!
His little mouth was drawn up like he had a bad cup of joe,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a E-Cigarette he held tight in his teeth,
And the vapor, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I whipped out my iPhone 6 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 no reason to get out my baseball bat or bullets of lead;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings and more under the tree; then turned with a jerk,
And smiled like he won the retirement home Bingos,
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 with no need of diesel.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
cuellar via Foter.com / CC BY-NC