‘Twas the night before Christmas and all ‘cross the net
Bulletin boards were covered with tidings and set
To receive many wishes of comfort and joy
And scalped Craigslist ads for this year’s best toy.

The kiddies were snuggled up tight in their ‘jammies
Sure that Christmas morning would pack a big whammy.
I sat in the corner with a computer on my lap
While the sweet kitty-kitty curled up for his nap.

When in through the window, carried on the Austin breeze
Near my third floor apartment, something landed in the trees.
I quickly sprang from my perch with a loud yelp
When a voice out the window whispered, “Please help.”

As usual, my curiosity overcame all of my fears -
At least since it was bolstered by liquid Christmas cheer.
I leaned out that window till what I saw
Was the crashed out sleigh of old Santa Claus.

“Santa,” said I, with a bright gleam in my eye.
“I thought three years ago you told me ‘bye.
It seems that I remember my name and your list
Were too far apart, not close enough to kiss.”

“Krysondra,” he responded with a look of chagrin,
“I know all your antics, your naughties, your sins.
We both know why I got rid of your name.
We both know you’re too busy, and you’re just not the same

Little girl that you used to be
And far too old to believe in me.”
“Mr. Clause,” I told him. “My belief never ended.
It’s, in fact, been enforced by the tree you’ve rear-ended.”

“Well, now that I’m here, and you’ve made your point –
I’ve got to get my rig and get out of this joint.
On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer, on Vixen,
We’ve got a Christmas sleigh that needs fixing.”

But try and try as those reindeer might,
They couldn’t pull that old sleigh out of sight.
I stood in the window, bad girl that I was,
And tried to come up with a decent “Because”

To give to my fiancée when he got home
And found out that I was not all alone.
Santa and I had a Christmas to save,
Me with my wedding and him with his sleigh.

Finally, I leaned out and dangled my keys.
“Santa, I think I have what you need.
This sleigh is shot, but the deer are still good.
You could load up the Honda and hook them to the hood?”

The elves began to mutter about tradition being broken,
But Santa snatched up the keys without a word spoken.
The toys all got loaded into my trunk by an elf named Steve.
Then, they all buckled up to take their leave.

“Remember I need this one back in one piece.”
Santa gave me a glare and took off like the parking lot was greased.
From my place, I heard him as he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

I went on to bed with a grin on my face.
I knew Santa would find his way back to my place.
On Christmas morning, my car was back in the lot,
And in the trees, the sleigh was still shot.

I opened up my computer and went to Booktalk
To give everyone my tidings and talk
That’s when I found what Santa had left Krysondra –
A donation in her name for the amount of twenty dollars.

Ha! I find your treatment of the poem quite enjoyable, Krysondra. The scene of Santa riding off in a reindeer-drawn Honda (with Steve, the likely less than impressed Elf loading the trunk) makes me giggle. And I enjoy how you weaved your personal story into the poem. It's original and you made it your own. Excellent!

Love it Krysondra!

Krysondra, I might have known you were from Texas!!

Before I joined Booktalk I had pre-conceived notions about Texans. I've met three on here who have astounded me. I think you all must be ultra-clever and jolly good eggs!!!

Lovely poem - thank you!!!

Thanks for the kudos, guys! *G* It was fun to write and share!

Twas the night before Christmas, and deep in the house
A bankster was lurking, man what a louse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
Let’s hope in the morning they will still be there;

Homeowners nestled, none too snug in their beds,
While a fanciful dream danced in each head;
Each their own story, but always they led,
To a vision of gold, now turned to lead.

Out on the lawn there arose a hue and cry,
And I sprang from my bed to see what’s going by.
What should appear as I opened the slats,
But a slick young lawyer, and all his bureaucrats.

The solicitor was articulate, and full of whit,
And I realized he had arrived, just in the nick.
More rapid than eagles, the bourses he tamed,
With the hope for much more, or so he claimed.

He was the man I’d heard of, known as Barack,
But could he put the banksters on the right tack?
In his capacity for hope, there was certainly no lack,
Could he give Wall Street the required smack?

He was a real driver, so lively and quick,
His team was assembled, and boy they were slick.
A nation to choose from, with just fingers to click,
But banksters among them, hmm-a curious pick.

On Biden! On Geithner! On Clinton!
Corral those shysters, and then we will blitz them!
He urged on his team, and was heard to exhort,
Cast out Fox News, don’t let them distort!

And then in a twinkling, there was the suit,
Pawing and clawing, and looking for loot.
I put up my hands, he said don’t make a sound,
When down through the chimney came Barak with a bound.

We was well dressed, from head to foot,
His skin was quite dark, I guess from the soot;
A big bundle of promises stuffed in his pack,
They looked heavy enough to break his back.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned to the jerk,
You’ve been naughty he said, and now it’s your onus,
To receive only a million, as your annual bonus.

I recoiled from this slight, but he gave his team a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as they drove out of sight,
“Seasons Greetings to all, and don’t look at the blight”!