It's Not Christmas

I know it’s not Christmas, but I wanted to share this again, in case you missed it. It should make you laugh!

‘Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the house
Every one was stirring, even the mouse.
The stockings were not hung by the chimney any more,
St. Nicholas had already been there before.
The children were not nestled all snug in their beds,
And visions of sugar-plums were memories instead.
And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
Could now settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
It’s the day after Christmas – time to shop!
Let’s get ready and start up the Nash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave me fits driving and it was cold too.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a parking lot filled as many shoppers appeared.
No, there was no miniature sleigh, or eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
But rather some jerk, I wanted to kick.
I knew in a moment that would be wrong
To whistle, and shout, and call him names.
“You, Dasher! you, Dancer! you, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
Well, you know what I mean.
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash to the mall!
And then, in a twinkling, I heard the prancing of footsteps,
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the street cops came with a bound.
They were dressed all in armor, from their head to their toe,
Their clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
Their guns were flung on their backs with care, and wait!
I laughed when I saw them, ‘cause it was only a dream,
And realized the cops were elfs dressed in green.
A wink of their eye and a twist of their heads,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
Then they sprang to their sleigh, and gave a loud whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them exclaim, as they flew out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

It's Not Christmas

gemlenz

Gilbert, United States

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