‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the writing nook
Not an item was stirring, not even a Book.
Now the stockings were hung from the 3-foot, barely decorated tree without much care
With Hopes that Saint Nick, soon would be there
And I was all settled, in a writing position
Typing a story I could give to my friends.
My fingers were moving straight across the keys,
as words appeared on my tiny screen.
And then on the sidewalk, there arose such a clatter
So I rose from the computer to see what was the matter.
Straight to the window I dashed
Threw up the blinds and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the old fallen leaves
Made me a bit disappointed that this Christmas wasn’t white
I looked to the sky, and what would appear?
A grand red sleigh and eight tiny reindeer!
With a large jolly driver, so lively and quick
I knew in a second, that it was St. Nick
More rapid than NaNoWriMo, he came with his chums
And I heard distinctively, he calling them by name.
“Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet! On Cupid! On Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away, Dash Away All!
And I threw down the window as they landed on the roof,
And leapt into bed (so I’d look like a good girl).
And maybe under the tree, when I woke up,
I’d be surprised with things for my writing nook.
