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  1. #45
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    Oh, MsLynn ....

    Cops Night Before Christmas


    'Twas the night before Christmas,
    Yet he slept all alone.
    In a one-bedroom house,
    Made of plaster and stone.

    I had come down the chimney
    With presents to give,
    And to see just what man
    In this small house did live.

    I looked all about,
    What a strange site to see.
    No tinsel, no presents,
    Not even a tree.

    No stockings by the fire,
    Just boots spit shined bright.
    Then something else gleamed,
    Reflecting the moonlight.

    They were medals and badges,
    Awards of all kinds.
    And a sobering thought
    Soon came to my mind.

    For this house was different,
    Unlike any I'd topped.
    This was the home of an officer,
    The home of a cop.

    I'd heard stories about "them",
    And I had to see more.
    So I walked down the hall,
    And pushed open the door.

    And there he lay sleeping,
    Silent and alone.
    Curled up on his bed,
    In this one-bedroom home.

    He seemed so gentle,
    His face weathered tan,
    I soon understood
    That this was more than a man.

    For I realized the families
    That I saw this night,
    Owed their lives to these people
    Who were willing to fight.

    Soon round the nation
    The children would play,
    And grown-ups would celebrate
    On a bright Christmas day.

    They all enjoyed safety
    Each month, and all year
    Because of officers like him,
    This man lying here.

    I couldn't help wonder
    How many were on patrol.
    All alone on Christmas Eve
    Out in the shivering cold.

    I watched him for hours,
    So silent and so still,
    And I noticed that he shivered,
    From the cold nights chill.

    So I took off my jacket,
    The one made of red.
    And I covered this officer
    From his toes to his head.

    Then I put on His jacket
    With the badge of silver and gold,
    With the words "Police Officer"
    Emblazoned so bold.

    Though it barely fit me
    I began to swell with pride,
    And for one shining moment
    I was an officer inside.

    I didn't want to leave him
    So quiet in the night,
    This guardian of justice,
    So willing to fight.

    But half asleep he rolled over,
    And in a voice clean and pure
    Said, "Carry on Santa - it's Christmas,
    All here is secure."

    One look at my watch
    And I knew he was right.

    Merry Christmas my friend,
    Code four and good night...
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

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  3. #46
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...


    A CAT'S CHRISTMAS


    'Twas the night before Christmas
    and all through the house
    Not a creature was stirring,
    not even a mouse.

    'Cuz the cat had pounced on him
    and tore him apart-
    Ate his mousey intestines
    And chewed up his heart.

    Kitty thought he heard sleigh bells,
    which made him take pause-
    He stopped daintily licking
    the blood from his claws.

    "Must be Santa" thought Kitty
    (that quite clever cat)
    'Cuz nobody else climbs down
    the chimney like that.

    Indeed it was ol' Santa,
    so jolly and fat
    With a load of presents
    and all for the cat!

    "Wow, the best Christmas ever!"
    Kitty thought with a purr,
    Then he coughed up a hairball
    and shed some more fur.
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  4. #47
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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...

    Boricua Night Before Christmas

    ‘Twas the Night Before Crijmas y en to'ita la casa,
    Not a creature stirring —¡Caramba! ¿Qué pasa?
    The niños were tuck’d... away in their camas,
    Some in calzoncillos and some in pijamas,

    I hung all the stockings con mucho cuida'o
    So that Santa Clos ejtuviera obliga'o
    To bring all the children, los buenos y malos,
    A bag of marrallos y de otros regalos.

    Out in El Batey, alguien se echó un grito
    I jumped to my feet like a scared cochinito.
    I ran to the window y miré pa’ fuera,
    ¿And who in the world, te creiste que era?

    Was Santa in a sleigh with a big red pava
    Came dashing along, gordo como ejtaba.
    Instead of venados pulling his trineo...
    He had ocho burros y to’j eran feos.

    I watched as they came y el gordito hombre
    Was shouting y así los llamaba por nombre:
    “Arre Papo y Tato, echa Cuco y Beto,
    Vuelen, Chato, Moncho, Pompín y Anacleto!"

    Then standing erect... la mano en el pecho
    He flew to the top of our very own techo.
    With his big round belly, cual pote ’e jalea,
    He struggled to squeeze por la chimenea,

    Then huffing and puffing, se estrelló en la sala ,
    With soot smeared all over su traje de gala,
    He filled all the stockings con lindos regalos
    Because the muchachos hadn’t been muy malos.

    Then chuckling aloud, felíz y contento,
    Took "la juyilanga..." veloz como el viento.
    But I heard him say... (y ésta es la verdad)
    —“Ya es Crijsmas, Boricuas... Felíz Navidad!”—

    ///

  5. #48
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    Thumbs up

    YAY !! Someone else wants to play !
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  6. #49
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...

    Twas the Night Before Xmas - Dieter's Version

    Twas the night before Christmas
    and all round my hips
    were Fannie May candies
    that sneaked past my lips.
    Fudge brownies were stored
    in the freezer with care
    In hopes that my thighs
    would forget they were there.

    While Mama in her my girdle
    and I in chin straps
    Had just settled down
    to sugar-borne naps.
    When out in the pantry
    there arose such a clatter
    I sprang from my bed
    to see what was the matter.

    Away to the kitchen
    I flew like a flash
    Tore open the icebox
    then threw up the sash.
    The marshmallow look
    of the new-fallen snow
    Sent thoughts of a binge
    to my body below.

    When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
    A marzipan Santa
    with eight chocolate reindeer!
    That huge chunk of candy
    so luscious and slick
    I knew in a second
    that I'd wind up sick.

    The sweet-coated santa,
    those sugared reindeer
    I closed my eyes tightly
    but still I could hear;
    On Pritzker, on Stillman,
    on weak one, on TOPS
    A Weight Watcher dropout
    from sugar detox.

    From the top of the scales
    to the top of the hall
    Now dash away pounds
    now dash away all.

    Dressed up in Lane Bryant
    from my head to nightdress
    My clothes were all bulging
    from too much excess.

    My droll little mouth
    and my round little belly
    They shook when I laughed
    like a bowl full of jelly.

    I spoke not a word
    but went straight to my work
    Ate all of the candy
    then turned with a jerk.

    And laying a finger
    beside my heartburn
    I gave a quick nod
    toward the bedroom I turned.
    I eased into bed,
    to the heavens I cry :

    "If temptation's removed
    I'll get thin by and by.

    And I mumbled again
    as I turned for the night
    In the morning I'll starve...
    'til I take that first bite!
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  7. #50
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    The Night Before Solstice


    Twas the night before solstice and all through the co-op
    Not a creature was messing the calm status quo up.
    The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
    Dreaming of lentils and warm whole-grain breads.

    We'd welcomed the winter that day after school
    By dancing and drumming and burning the Yule,
    A more meaningful gesture to honor the planet
    Than buying more trinkets for Mom or Aunt Janet,

    Or choosing a tree just to murder and stump it
    And deck it all out like a seasonal strumpet.
    My spouse and I, having turned down the heat,
    Slipped under the covers for some well-deserved sleep,

    When from out on the lawn there came such a roar
    I slipped from my futon and rolled to the floor.
    I crawled to the window and pulled back the latch,
    And muttered, "Aw, where is that Neighborhood Watch?"

    I saw there below through the murk of the night
    A sleigh and eight reindeer, challenged of height.
    At the reins of that sleigh sat a mean-hearted knave
    Who treated each deer like some personal slave.

    I'd seen him before in some ads for car loans,
    Plus fast food, soft drinks and cellular car phones.
    He must have cashed in from these mercantile chores,
    Since self-satisfaction just oozed from his pores.

    He called each by name, as if 'twere his right
    To treat them like chattel enhancing his might:
    "Now Donner, now Blitzen," and other such aliases,
    Showing his true Euro-centrical biases.

    With a snap of his fingers away they all flew,
    Like Democrats served up brie or tofu.
    Up to the rooftop they carried the sleigh
    (The damage to my shingles is there to this day).

    Out bounded the man, who went straight to the flue.
    I knew in an instant just what I should do.
    After donning my slippers, downstairs did I dash
    To see this trespasser emerge from the ash.

    His clothes were all covered with soot, well of course,
    From our wood-fueled alternative energy source.
    Through the grime I distinguished the make of his duds--
    He was trimmed all in fur, fairly dripping with blood!

    "We're a cruelty-free house!" I proclaimed with such heat
    He was startled and tripped on the logs at his feet.
    He stood back up dazed, but with mirth in his eyes.
    It was then that I noticed his unhealthy size.

    He was almost as wide as when standing erect,
    A lover of fatty fried foods, I suspect.
    But that wasn't all to make sane persons choke:
    In his teeth sat a pipe that was belching out smoke!

    I could scarcely believe what had invaded our house--
    This carcinogenic and overweight louse
    Was so red in the face from his energy spent,
    I expected a coronary right there and then.

    Behind him he toted a red velvet bag
    Full to exploding with sinister swag.
    He asked, "Where is your tree?" with a face somewhat long.
    I said, "Out in the yard, which is where it belongs."

    "But where will I put all the presents I've brought?"
    I looked at him squarely and said, "Take the whole lot
    To some frivolous people who think that they need
    To succumb to the sickness of commerce and greed,

    Whose only joy comes from the act of consuming,
    Thus sending the value of retail stocks booming."
    He blinked and said, "Ho, ho, ho! But you're kidding."
    I gave him a stare that was stern and forbidding.

    "Surely children need something with which to have fun?
    Or it's like childhood's over before it's begun."
    He looked in my eyes for some sign of assent,
    But I strengthened my will and refused to relent.

    "They have plenty of fun," I cut to the gist,
    "And your mindless distractions have never been missed.
    They take CPR so that they can save lives,
    And they go door-to-door on used clothing drives.

    They recycle, renew, reuse and reveal
    For saving the planet's a laudable zeal.
    When they padlock themselves to a fence to protest
    Against nuclear power, we think they're the best."

    He said, "But they're children--lo, when do they play?"
    I countered, "Is that why you've come in your sleigh,
    "To bring joy to the hearts of each child and tot?
    All right, open your bag; let's see what you've got."

    He sheepishly did as I'd asked and behold!
    A Malibu Barbie in a skirt of gold.
    "You think that my girls will like playing with this,
    An icon of sexist, consumerist kitsch?

    With its unnat'ral figure and airheaded grin,
    This trollop makes every girl yearn to be thin,
    And take up fad diets, bingeing and purging
    Instead of respecting her own body's urging

    To welcome the shape that her body has found
    And rejoice to be lanky, short, skinny or round."
    Deep from his satchel he produced up a toy,
    Saying, "This is a hit with most every boy."

    And what did he put in my trembling hand
    But a gun from the BrainBlaster Power Command!
    "It's a 'hit,' to be sure," I sneered in his face,
    "And a plague and a pox on the whole human race!

    How 'bout grenades or some working bazookas
    To turn all of our kids into half-wit palookas?"
    I seized on his bag just to see for myself
    The filth being spread by this odious elf.

    An Easy-Bake Oven--ah, goddess, what perfidy!
    To hoodwink young girls into household captivity!
    Plus an archer play set with shafts that fly out,
    The very thing to put a child's eye out.

    And toy metal tractors, steam shovels and cranes
    For destroying woodlands and scarring the plains,
    Plus "games" like Monop'ly, Pay Day, Tycoon,
    As if lessons in greed can't start up too soon.

    And even more weapons from BrainBlasters Co.,
    Like cannons and nun-chucks and ray guns that glow.
    That's all I could find in his red velvet sack--
    Perverseness and mayhem to set us all back.

    "We need none of this," I announced in a huff,
    "No 'business-as-usual' holiday stuff.
    "We sow in our offspring more virtue than this.
    Your goods are things that they'll never miss."

    The big man's expression was a trifle bereaved
    As he shouldered his pack and got ready to leave.
    "I pity the kids who grow up around here,
    Who're never permitted to be of good cheer,

    Who aren't allowed leisure for leisure's own sake,
    But must fret every minute--it makes my heart ache!"
    "Enough histrionics! Don't pity our kids
    If they don't do as Macys or Toys 'R' Us bids.

    They live by their principles first and foremost
    And know what's important," to him I did boast.
    "Pray, could I meet them?" "Oh no, they're not here.
    By now, they're on the roof, liberating your deer!"

    At that Santa sputtered and pointed his finger
    But, mad as he was, he had no time to linger.
    He flew up the chimney like smoke from a fire,
    And up on the roof I heard voices get higher.

    I ran outside the co-op to see him react
    To my children's responsible, kindhearted act.
    He chased them away, and disheartened, dismayed,
    He rehitched his reindeer (who'd docilely stayed).

    I watched with delight as he scooted off then;
    He'd be too embarrassed to come back again.
    But with parting disdain, do you know what he said,
    This overweight huckster when he took off in his sled?

    This reindeer enslaver, this exploiter of elves?
    "Happy Christmas to all, but get over yourselves!!"
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  8. #51
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...

    [b]The Week Before Christmas
    Written by: Joyce Luke

    'Twas the week before Christmas
    and all through the school
    Not a pupil was silent,
    no matter what rule.
    The children were busy
    with paper and paste;
    The mess that they made
    with it couldn't be faced.
    The teacher half frantic
    and almost in tears,
    Had just settled down
    to work with her dears,
    When out in the hall
    there arose such a clatter
    That up sprang the kids
    to see what was the matter!

    Away to the doorway
    they flew like a flash;
    The one who was leading
    went down with a crash.
    Then what to their wondering eyes did appear
    But a green Christmas tree!
    (To decorate I fear!)

    When the teacher saw this,
    she almost grew sick.
    She knew in a moment
    it must be Old Nick!
    She ran to the door
    (all her efforts were vain)
    But she shouted, and stamped,
    and she called them by name;

    "Now Tommy! Now Sandy,
    Now Judy and Harry!
    Stop Billy! Stop Robert!
    Stop Donny and Sherry!
    Now get to your places
    get away from the hall
    Now get away!
    Get away!
    Get away all!

    As leaves that before
    the wild hurricane fly
    The pupils, pell mell,
    started scurrying by.
    They ran to the blackboard
    and skipped down the aisle;
    Their faces were shining
    and each had a smile.

    First came a basket
    of popcorn to string
    Then came the Christmas tree
    (menacing thing).
    As the tree was brought in
    there arose a great shout;
    The pupils were merrily
    romping about.

    The state they were in
    could lead to a riot;
    The teacher was sure,
    if allowed,
    they would try it.
    Her nerves how they jangled!
    Her temples were throbbing!
    The rush of her breath
    sounded almost like sobbing!

    The lines of her face
    were as fixed as a mask;
    It was plain
    that she didn't feel up to her task.
    The look in her eye
    would have tamed a wild steer,
    But the children ignored it;
    they did every year.

    A tear from her eye
    and a shake of her head
    Soon led me to think
    that she wished she were dead.
    She spoke not a word
    but went straight to her work,
    Strung all the popcorn
    which broke with a jerk.

    But at last it was finished
    and placed on the tree;
    Then came the bell
    and the children were free.

    Their shrill little voices
    soon faded away
    And peace was restored
    at the end of the day.
    As she looked at the Christmas tree
    glistening and tall,
    She smiled as she whispered,
    Merry Christmas to all!
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  9. #52
    Jolie Rouge's Avatar
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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...

    Do Reindeer Rule?


    'Twas the Night before Christmas, has lots of rhymes.
    But do you think the story really fits with our times?
    We don't have a chimney, our socks are in the wash.
    Dreaming of sugar plums? Oh my gosh!

    And what's with a kerchief? Our dad wears no cap.
    He snores all night, you call that a nap?
    They tell us that Santa is coming tonight.
    He'll be flying in here on a sleigh, YEAH, RIGHT!

    When we were much younger we believed all that stuff,
    Now that we're older we know it's a bluff.
    This Christmas eve is not going as we wish.
    So we snuck down the stairs to turn on the dish.

    All involved in the movie, we wouldn't hear a mouse.
    But this clatter, meant a party at the neighbor's house.
    As we sprang to our feet, to see who was out there,
    We couldn't believe reindeer, no, not on a dare!

    We looked at each other, and gave out a squeak.
    Someone is coming, oh what a sneak.
    No, it's just Dad going to the can.
    No, really look, it's the true fat man.

    He stands by the table and looks through the house
    And takes from his pocket a tiny gray mouse.
    He says, "Ho, Ho Ho, I truly believe,
    There must be a mouse in each Christmas eve."

    His belt buckle shakes as he laughs, look at that...
    My gosh this jolly old guy sure is fat.
    He looks up and sees us, then gives a big smile.
    He says, "I came to see you, let's talk a while.

    "You're grown up kids now that don't believe
    That Santa comes on each Christmas eve.
    You've let your minds be filled with doubt.
    It's simple, without me the fun's left out.

    "I remember the time you both sat on my knee
    Smiles on your faces, eyes sparkling with glee.
    Don't you remember the thrill you felt then?
    With a little belief you can feel it again.

    He turns as he says, "Will you please come out here?
    And there on the driveway stood eight tough reindeer.
    They all nod to us and then snort in a chorus,
    "Who's these cool dudes now standing before us?"

    As the big burley guy crawls into his sleigh.
    We're both thinking, there ain't no way!
    He says, "It's my new team, a real with-it crew.
    I'll let HP give their names to you."

    "Here's E-mail and Smiley, Micro Soft and Chip,
    I'm HP, there's Copy, Surfin' and Blip.
    The big guy is Santa, the North Pole's his home,
    We're with him all year, we hang out in Nome."


    Then they take off and fly up to the roof
    Tap a short rap and give a "high hoof."
    All turn and shout, "Tonight reindeer's rule.
    The eight of us wish you a crazy cool Yule."

    Then Santa shouts, "It's true some things change.
    But believe in the basics." As he speeds out of range.
    This Story dear folks, is so out of sight.
    "Merry Christmas to all,
    and to all a Good-Night!"
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  10. #53
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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...

    A Genealogist's Christmas Eve
    (author unknown)



    'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
    Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse.
    The dining room table with clutter was spread
    With pedigree charts and with letters which said...
    "Too bad about the data for which you wrote
    Sank in a storm on an ill fated boat."

    Stacks of old copies of wills and the such
    Were proof that my work had become much too much.
    Our children were nestled all snug in their beds,
    While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.
    And I at my table was ready to drop
    From work on my album with photos to crop.

    Christmas was here, and of such was my lot
    That presents and goodies and toys I forgot.
    Had I not been so busy with grandparent's wills,
    I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills.
    While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas cheer;
    I'd spent time researching those birth dates and years.

    While I was thus musing about my sad plight,
    A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a great fright.
    Away to the window I flew in a flash,
    Tore open the drapes and I yanked up the sash.
    When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
    But an overstuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer.

    Up to the housetop the reindeer they flew,
    With a sleigh full of toys, and old Santa Claus too.
    And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
    The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.
    The TV antenna was no match for their horns,
    And look at our roof with hoof-prints adorned.

    As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash,
    Down the cold chimney fell Santa - KER-RASH!
    "Dear" Santa had come from the roof in a wreck,
    And tracked soot on the carpet, (I could wring his short neck!)
    Spotting my face, good old Santa could see
    I had no Christmas spirit, you'd have to agree.

    He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
    And filled all the stockings, (I felt like a jerk).
    Here was Santa, who'd brought us such gladness and joy;
    When I'd been too busy for even one toy.
    He spied my research on the table all spread
    "A genealogist!" He cried! (My face was all red!)

    "Tonight I've met many like you", Santa grinned.
    As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned.
    I gazed with amazement - the cover it read
    "Genealogy Lines for Which You Have Plead."
    "I know what it's like as a genealogy bug,"
    He said as he gave me a great Santa Hug.

    "While the elves make the sleighful of toys I now carry,
    I do some research in the North Pole Library!
    A special treat I am thus able to bring,
    To genealogy folks who can't find a thing.
    Now off you go to your bed for a rest,
    I'll clean up the house from this genealogy mess."

    As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee,
    I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me.
    While settling in bed, I heard Santa's clear whistle,
    To his team which then rose like the down of a thistle
    And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,
    "Family History is Fun! Merry Christmas! Goodnight!"





    Thanks to Mary Campbell
    Laissez les bon temps rouler! Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.** a 4 day work week & sex slaves ~ I say Tyt for PRESIDENT! Not to be taken internally, literally or seriously ....Suki ebaynni IS THAT BETTER ?

  11. #54

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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...



    A Visit from Saint Nicholas (In the Ernest Hemingway Manner)
    by James Thurber


    It was the night before Christmas. The house was very quiet. No creatures
    were stirring in the house. There weren’t even any mice stirring. The
    stockings had been hung carefully by the chimney. The children hoped that
    Saint Nicholas would come and fill them.
    The children were in their beds. Their beds were in the room next to ours.
    Mamma and I were in our beds. Mamma wore a kerchief. I had my cap on. I
    could hear the children moving. We didn’t move. We wanted the children to
    think we were asleep.
    “Father,” the children said.
    There was no answer. He’s there, all right, they thought.
    “Father,” they said, and banged on their beds.
    “What do you want?” I asked.
    “We have visions of sugarplums,” the children said.
    “Go to sleep,” said mamma.
    “We can’t sleep,” said the children. They stopped talking, but I could hear
    them moving. They made sounds.
    “Can you sleep?” asked the children.
    “No,” I said.
    “You ought to sleep.”
    “I know. I ought to sleep.”
    “Can we have some sugarplums?”
    “You can’t have any sugarplums,” said mamma.
    “We just asked you.”
    There was a long silence. I could hear the children moving again.
    “Is Saint Nicholas asleep?” asked the children.
    “No,” mamma said. “Be quiet.”
    “What the hell would he be asleep tonight for?” I asked.
    “He might be,” the children said.
    “He isn’t,” I said.
    “Let’s try to sleep,” said mamma.
    The house became quiet once more. I could hear the rustling noises the
    children made when they moved in their beds.
    Out on the lawn a clatter arose. I got out of bed and went to the window. I
    opened the shutters; then I threw up the sash. The moon shone on the snow.
    The moon gave the lustre of mid-day to objects in the snow. There was a
    miniature sleigh in the snow, and eight tiny reindeer. A little man was
    driving them. He was lively and quick. He whistled and shouted at the
    reindeer and called them by their names. Their names were Dasher, Dancer,
    Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, and Blitzen.
    He told them to dash away to the top of the porch, and then he told them to
    dash away to the top of the wall. They did. The sleigh was full of toys.
    “Who is it?” mamma asked.
    “Some guy,” I said. “A little guy.”
    I pulled my head in out of the window and listened. I heard the reindeer on
    the roof. I could hear their hoofs pawing and prancing on the roof. “Shut
    the window,” said mamma. I stood still and listened.
    “What do you hear?”
    “Reindeer,” I said. I shut the window and walked about. It was cold. Mamma
    sat up in the bed and looked at me.
    “How would they get on the roof?” mamma asked.
    “They fly.”
    “Get into bed. You’ll catch cold.”
    Mamma lay down in bed. I didn’t get into bed. I kept walking around.
    “What do you mean, they fly?” asked mamma.
    “Just fly is all.”
    Mamma turned away toward the wall. She didn’t say anything.
    I went out into the room where the chimney was. The little man came down the
    chimney and stepped into the room. He was dressed all in fur. His clothes
    were covered with ashes and soot from the chimney. On his back was a pack
    like a peddler’s pack. There were toys in it. His cheeks and nose were red
    and he had dimples. His eyes twinkled. His mouth was little, like a bow, and
    his beard was very white. Between his teeth was a stumpy pipe. The smoke
    from the pipe encircled his head in a wreath. He laughed and his belly shook
    It shook like a bowl of red jelly. I laughed. He winked his eye, then he
    gave a twist to his head. He didn’t say anything.
    He turned to the chimney and filled the stockings and turned away from the
    chimney. Laying his finger aside his nose, he gave a nod. Then he went up
    the chimney. I went to the chimney and looked up. I saw him get into his
    sleigh. He whistled at his team and the team flew away. The team flew as
    lightly as thistledown. The driver called out, “Merry Christmas and good
    night.” I went back to bed.
    “What was it?” asked mamma. “Saint Nicholas?” She smiled.
    “Yeah,” I said.
    She sighed and turned in the bed.
    “I saw him,” I said.
    “Sure.”
    “I did see him.”
    “Sure you saw him.” She turned farther toward the wall.
    “Father,” said the children.
    “There you go,” mamma said. “You and your flying reindeer.”
    “Go to sleep,” I said.
    “Can we see Saint Nicholas when he comes?” the children asked.
    “You got to be asleep,” I said. “You got to be asleep when he comes. You
    can’t see him unless you’re unconscious.”
    “Father knows,” mamma said.
    I pulled the covers over my mouth. It was warm under the covers. As I went
    to sleep I wondered if mamma was right

    {{{secret Pal}}
    Hold out bait to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.

    The early bird might get the worm, but it's the second mouse who gets the cheese

    Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.
    - Albert Einstein

  12. #55

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    Re: " 'Twas The Night Before Christmas" (nontraditional ) Collection ...



    The Night Before Christmas at M' Home on the Range

    Twere nigh onto Christmas, an' all 'round m' cabin

    Ya c'd hear cactus grow — warn't a coyote gabbin'.

    M' long-johns was propped on a stick by the fire

    In hopes that, come mornin', they'd be warmer an' drier.

    The heifers were dreamin', outside on m' lands,

    Nightmares 'bout me milkin' with cold mornin' hands.

    M' horse slept indoors, an' the cabin smelled rank. It

    Were so cold outside, me an' him shared the blanket!

    When above, on the shakes, I heard hoof-beats skedaddle.

    I unholstered m' guns — somethin's scarin' the cattle! —

    Threw open the door, stood out on the porch

    Barefoot, buck-naked — jes' m' gun an' a torch.

    The moonbeams that marched 'crost m' spread single-file

    Showed the snow was unbroken fer mile after mile.

    "Some ruckus," I shrugged. "Jes' the wind in the sage" —

    When 'crost the night sky comes the overland stage!

    (Well, m' seein's no good — ain't no cause to lodge pity —

    Lost m' specs playin' blackjack in Dodge City.)

    Overhead the stage twirled like a big wagon wheel,

    An' I reckon I felt like a buzzard's next meal.

    My eyeballs improvin' as each swoop it nears,

    I c'd see the stage pulled by some strange-lookin' steers!

    They ambushed m' ranch like a hound'll rout grouse —

    Tore a wall off the barn, an' knocked down the outhouse!

    Like a tumbleweed skitters which way the wind blows,

    Them varmints was loco (an' believe me, I knows!).

    An' then, from above me, I heard m' roof groan,

    An' I figgered m' ceilin' would drop like a stone.

    I yelled m'self raw, over jangles and jingles:

    "Git that stage off m' roof! Git them steers off m' shingles!"

    When, from somewheres behind me, I hears some galoot

    Crack out "Pipe down, son!" as the room filled with soot!

    He'd clumb down m' chimney, this greenhorn so rude,

    An' one look at his rig said it all: "He's a dude!"

    His face was all whiskers — in a bag was his gear —

    His red suit must mean he was huntin' fer deer.

    He looked so danged silly, I guffawed through an' through,

    But I stopped when he said, "Son, yer skin's turnin' blue."

    I'll admit it looked strange — didn't take much more proof

    Than me standin' buck-naked, eight steers on m' roof.

    "M' brain must've friz up clean through to the marrow.

    'Scuse m' bad manners, sir," an' I doffed m' sombrero.

    I asks, "Where ya from, Gramps?" an' the dude says, "Up north."

    (Guess them Montana folks don't care how they go forth!)

    "I'll be drivin' all night," he said, "last light t' first.

    "It's hard on ol' codgers — but on reindeers it's worst.

    "So I'm askin' a favor, an' I hopes you agrees:

    "Lemme borry eight longhorns t'night, if ya please."

    "Ya got grit, dude," says I, as my six-guns I cock,

    "Bustin' up m' home spread, an' now rustlin' m' stock."

    "That's all been repaired," said he, scratchin' his nose.

    With a last "Much obliged!" up m' chimney he goes.

    I were seein' dang good then as I recollects;

    That greenhorn done gimme a new pair o' specs!

    I looks out, an' sees a new barn in the fog;

    In m' new privy sits a fresh Sears catalog!

    But I still was uneasy — them longhorns was prime,

    An' fer reindeers I couldn't git nary a dime.

    "I'll be back afore dawn," says he, slappin' the traces,

    An' next thing I knowed, they whooshed over the mesas!

    But I heard him shout out, as his stage cleared the moon:

    "Happy trails t' ya, cowboy, 'til we meet again soon!"


    {{{secret Pal}}
    Hold out bait to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.

    The early bird might get the worm, but it's the second mouse who gets the cheese

    Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.
    - Albert Einstein

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