xx Twas the Night Before Christmas xx

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I wrote my own version of the poem.

Submitted: November 03, 2011

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Submitted: November 03, 2011

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Twas the night before christmas the day after is Sat
Not a creature was stirring, not even a rat
The stocking weren't hung but laid down on the floor
In hopes that our mom wouldn't forget this one chore
The teens were both nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of play-stations danced in their heads
And mamma in her night-gown, and dad in his shorts
Had just settled down with pillows for support
When out on the lawn there arose such a hoot
That dad sprang from his bed to see whom to shoot
Away to the window we flew really fast
Tore open the curtains to see out at last
The moon on the breast on the now dead grass
Gave a lustre of brown and some kind of gas
When what to our wondering eyes should pass by
But a very large sleigh and a small fat guy
Now that fat little man was very very quick
And we all knew right then it must be old Nick
More rapid than slugs his coursers they came
And he moaned and growned and called them by name
Now Snowball! Now Spinner! Now Gary and Nixon!
On Jojo! On Stew! On Cali and Mixen!
To the top of the the roof to the top of the door
Now dance away dance away dance away soar
And then in a flash I heard on the top
The stabbing and jabbing and each little pop
As we drew in our heads and turned each around
Down the chimnney the fat man came with a bound
He was dressed all in leather from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all dirtyed they must be caput
A bundle of toys he had slung on his hunch
He looked like that morning he had too much "punch"
His eyes how they watered! His warts, how merry!
His cheeks were like tulips, his nose like a cherry!
His small little mouth was drawn up like a knot
His beard...oh so oily...and oh...Great Scot
The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth
The the smoke it clouded him not like a wreath
He had a flat face and a large sort of belly
That shook when he coughed like a bowl full of jelly
He was chubby and obease, and a strange sort of elf
That we laughed when we saw him in spite of ourselfs
A twitch of his eye and a crack of his head
Soon gave us to know we had lots to dread
He spoke many words and put off all his work
HE left all the stocking then turned with a jerk
and laying as finger aside of his wart
He rose up the chimnney like a bird of some sort
He stumbled to his sleigh and groaned to his team
And away they all flew like it was only a dream
But I heard him shout just before he left sight
Happy christmas to all and to all a good night
 

 

 

 


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