Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
All under the tree the presents were laid
In bright shiny wrappers, done up with gold braid.
The household asleep, snuggled up in their beds
Visions of cinnamon buns a-dance in their heads.
Yet one fellow lay with his eyes wide open
His fingers crossed, his heart clearly hopin’.
He’d wrote up his list, a full month ago
Put it in the mail, so “Santa” would know.
He’d checked the whole trove, some boxes were missin’.
He muttered his worry and hoped “Santa” would listen.
Yet as he tossed betwixt sleeping and waking
He saw out the window that cross the yard pacing
A short whiskered fellow, who there on his back
He had hoisted and carried an unwieldy pack.
His cap was quite dirty and no longer red
His belly was missing, no longer well fed.
He was bundled and dressed in rags from all climes
(Even he’d been affected in these hard living times)
Still his bag was well full for this year’s capers
But up to the window on the lightest of vapors
Floated curses and mutters and vague imprecations
As this unhappy elf vented his frustrations
“Damn Nyquil, damn Mucinex, damn Theraflu
Damn colds, damn flu, damn shakes and ague
They’ve set me behind and there’s so much to do!
And I’ve no help this year, damn USPS too!”
Then he lifted his finger and paused in his pace
He shook his head and a smile lit his face
“I’m an old fool, for a moment I forgot
Twelve days for Christmas, I can deliver the lot!”