A modern twist on Twas the Night Before Christmas
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Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the store.
Many customers were shopping at the Harbolt Company, for great deals galore!
The products were packed, in their boxes with great care.
In hopes that the mailman, soon would be there.
Samantha and I, were all snuggled in our beds.
While visions of fantasy football, danced in our heads.
With her in her blanket, and I in my C-Pap.
Had both settled in, for a short afternoon nap.
When outside my house, there arose such a clatter.
I ran out the door, and tripped over a ladder.
In the silence, it made such a crash.
If this were funniest home videos, I'd be winning some cash.
The night sky cast shadows, on my yard with no snow.
And gave a moonlight luster, to the objects below.
When what to my blind eyes, did I hear.
But, a miniature sleigh, and 8 tiny reindeer.
With a big fat driver, giving his cigarette a flick.
I knew in a moment, it must be Saint Nick.
Faster than eagles, his reindeer, they came.
And he coughed, and sputtered, and called them by name.
Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer! and Vixen! On Comet! On Cupid! On Donder! and Blitzen!
Avoid the porch, don't run into the wall.
Don't crash, don't crash, don't crash, and fall.
They looked like a wounded turkey, trying to fly.
When their sleigh clipped a drone, moving fast through the sky.
So, up to the rooftops, the reindeer they flew.
Dropping toys from the sleigh, like birds dropping poo.
Then finally, they made it on to the roof.
I heard dancing, and prancing, from each little hoof.
A falling gift struck my head, as I turned around.
Then down my chimney, Saint Nick fell to the ground.
His suit was fake fur, because Santa's no killer!
Covered in Ashes and Cobwebs, he looked straight out of Thriller.
He carried a bag of toys, slung over his back.
and he looked like a salesman, opening his pack.
He appraised me thoroughly, and appeared quite wary.
His cheeks were quite rosy, from his last bloody Mary.
His mischievous grin, was drawn up like a bow.
And the goatee on his chin, was white like new fallen snow.
The butt of his cigarette, he held between his lips.
The tobacco stains showed yellow, on his fat fingertips.
He had a wrinkled face, and a big Buddha belly.
That shook when he laughed, like cranberry jelly.
He was jolly and plump, and badly needs to diet.
And I started to chuckle, this was a laugh riot.
He gave me a wink, and a nod of his head.
It gave me confirmation, I had nothing to dread.
He never spoke, but gave it his all.
He started filling the stockings, that were hung on the wall.
With a snap of his fingers, the message was sent.
Then, Up the chimney, old Santa went.
He jumped in his sleigh, and gave his reindeer a shout.
The sleigh took off, then turned to come about.
I heard him yell, as they flew out of sight.
Merry Christmas to All, and to all a good night!
Brent Harbolt
The Harbolt Company
December 2023
Many customers were shopping at the Harbolt Company, for great deals galore!
The products were packed, in their boxes with great care.
In hopes that the mailman, soon would be there.
Samantha and I, were all snuggled in our beds.
While visions of fantasy football, danced in our heads.
With her in her blanket, and I in my C-Pap.
Had both settled in, for a short afternoon nap.
When outside my house, there arose such a clatter.
I ran out the door, and tripped over a ladder.
In the silence, it made such a crash.
If this were funniest home videos, I'd be winning some cash.
The night sky cast shadows, on my yard with no snow.
And gave a moonlight luster, to the objects below.
When what to my blind eyes, did I hear.
But, a miniature sleigh, and 8 tiny reindeer.
With a big fat driver, giving his cigarette a flick.
I knew in a moment, it must be Saint Nick.
Faster than eagles, his reindeer, they came.
And he coughed, and sputtered, and called them by name.
Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer! and Vixen! On Comet! On Cupid! On Donder! and Blitzen!
Avoid the porch, don't run into the wall.
Don't crash, don't crash, don't crash, and fall.
They looked like a wounded turkey, trying to fly.
When their sleigh clipped a drone, moving fast through the sky.
So, up to the rooftops, the reindeer they flew.
Dropping toys from the sleigh, like birds dropping poo.
Then finally, they made it on to the roof.
I heard dancing, and prancing, from each little hoof.
A falling gift struck my head, as I turned around.
Then down my chimney, Saint Nick fell to the ground.
His suit was fake fur, because Santa's no killer!
Covered in Ashes and Cobwebs, he looked straight out of Thriller.
He carried a bag of toys, slung over his back.
and he looked like a salesman, opening his pack.
He appraised me thoroughly, and appeared quite wary.
His cheeks were quite rosy, from his last bloody Mary.
His mischievous grin, was drawn up like a bow.
And the goatee on his chin, was white like new fallen snow.
The butt of his cigarette, he held between his lips.
The tobacco stains showed yellow, on his fat fingertips.
He had a wrinkled face, and a big Buddha belly.
That shook when he laughed, like cranberry jelly.
He was jolly and plump, and badly needs to diet.
And I started to chuckle, this was a laugh riot.
He gave me a wink, and a nod of his head.
It gave me confirmation, I had nothing to dread.
He never spoke, but gave it his all.
He started filling the stockings, that were hung on the wall.
With a snap of his fingers, the message was sent.
Then, Up the chimney, old Santa went.
He jumped in his sleigh, and gave his reindeer a shout.
The sleigh took off, then turned to come about.
I heard him yell, as they flew out of sight.
Merry Christmas to All, and to all a good night!
Brent Harbolt
The Harbolt Company
December 2023