Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Brat’s stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that their Mistresses soon would be there.
Qt and Flo were nestled all snug in their Cells,
While their collars where shiny and covered with bells.
And Kitty was mischief chief, full of fun whims,
Was creating her havoc in pony girl Sims.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Fae sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Angel was dusting the pictures no joke,
Her legs in a spreader her arms in a Yoke.
She had fallen again on the new-fallen snow
Her cheeks were quite red and beginning to glow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sleigh being pulled by brats in pony gear.
With a beautiful driver in her new leather dress,
I knew in a moment it must be our Mistress.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Danii ! and, Dana” she said with a snap
Get working together and pull this old trap.
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
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 once again,
With the sleigh full of presents, from Dio and Jen..
Dressed in fine leather, leaving nothing to chance.
She makes the girls pull her to the Friday night dance.
A bundle of Toys she had flung on her back,
Then thought who to tie helpless when she emptied the sack.
Virgo was playing great song on her stream
Tyra was dancing and looked like a dream.
The others were there and filling the Floor
Argi and Deli and and a whole lot more.
BC was smacking each bottom she saw
Claven and Sarah and more friends galore.
Dio dished out the presents with Jen as her elf,
And Argi was worried about the poor Dr’s health.
Then she sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, as she drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
Stolen from Clement Clarke Moore (1779 – 1863) and butchered by Jenny Maurer
Diomita Maurer’s Blog 