Friday, January 7, 2011

Twas the Night Before Christmas - One to Remember

‎'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through our hut
Not a creature was stirring, not even our mutt;
The flip flops were hung by the palm tree with care,
In hopes that Surfer Santa soon would be there;
Our fuzzy n' feather children were nestled all...
snug by our bed,
While visions of milk-bones, cat -nip n' rowdy-bush danced in their heads;
Brianne's in her 'nightie, and T with things on his mind,
Had just settled down for a long evenings da kine,
When out by the pool there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the slider I flew like a flash,
Tore open the sheers and remembered my bare ass.
The moon on the breast of the shimmering pool
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects, it was cool,
When, what to my wondering eyes was beyond words,
But a T&C surfboard, and eight pink birds,
With a little old surfer, so lively and tan,
I knew in a moment it must be the old man.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now,Jerry! Now, Taj! Now, Poncho and Ricky!
On, Bede! On Kai! On, Jordy and Miki!
To the top of the curl! To the top of the falls!
Now cut-back! Cut-back! Get us some air!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the board full of toys, and Surfer Santa too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the deck
Prancing and pawing and the occasional peck.
As I threw on a towel, and was turning around,
In the back slider, in Surfer Santa came with a bound.
He was dressed in his doggers, you could see he was no kook,
And his arms were all covered with tats, I couldn’t help but look;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were a bit rosy, from nips of the sherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the sand;
The pipe hanging from his mouth was grand,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a braddah for sure, that was no elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I should have my ass back in bed;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
As he pulled tight the strings on his hoodie,
He reach over to pat Brianne’s boodie;
He sprang to his long board, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
Mele Kalikimaka to all, and to all a good-nig
Thanks to Surfdawg and Dawgsgirl for the poem. I replaced Tom and me in your guy's places. And, added a feather kid. After all, Santa needs to ride over to our place. Merry Holiday and thanks again for the fun!