The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Were scattered paper and presents
Brother's socks and sister's blouse

The sellotape was torn
And stuck to the back of the chair
In the genuine hope
That there was enough there

The children were nestled
Snug in their beds
While parents scrabbled around
Blind panic filling their heads

Mother with her whisky glass
The bottle without its cap
Father with the brandy
Mince pies on his lap

When out in the yard
There arose a great clatter
Said she unto him "Oh Albert,
What can possibly be the matter?"

Away to the window
I went with a flash
And next-doors tom cat
Went off in a dash

The lamplight on his tail
Made it seem aglow
And it stood out so black
Against the new-fallen snow

He sat on the wall
And made a noise reet queer
Like chalk on a blackboard
Mother groaned "Oh dear"

So opening the window
I waved my old stick
Shouted loud words at him
He soon buggared off quick

Now paper, now scissors
This feels like prison
Time's getting on though
For the moon is now risen

So we took up our scissors
the paper in clouds did fly
And by the time we'd finished
The drinks had got us high

So we raised up our glasses
And each gave a drunken cheer
And we both thanked God
That that was it for another year!



Terry Rhiannyr
December 2012

Based very loosely on

'Twas the Night Before Christmas"

A Visit from St. Nicholas

by Clement Clarke Moore
(1779-1863)

also attributed to
Major Henry Livingston, Jr.