'Twas The Week Before Christmas

(I admit it, I am pushing it with this
holiday spirit stuff around here.)








‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house
Every creature was stirring inside of this house.
The doors all secured by the family with care,
In hopes that no one would open them- dare.

We parents were nestled all snug in our beds,
While visions of tomorrow all danced in our heads.
But Grandma in her kerchief and layers of wraps,
Wouldn’t settle her brain for even a short nap.

When straight from her room there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
All way down the hallway I flew like a flash
Tore open the grottos and threw up the sash.

The moon from the window crept in with a glow
An illusion of mid-day to Susan below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a mixed up Grandmother, thinking daytime was near.

Just a little old woman so lively but sick
I knew in a moment I must stop her quick.
More sleepy than I this family all came
Cause she’d knocked and she’d shouted and called us by name.

Come Karen! You Jeffrey! Come Kyle and Ashli!
Oh come on you stupids! Oh you must all come see!
To the front of the porch! To the shopping mall!
Let’s dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!

As dry morsels with quietness are better than strife
When I meet with an obstacle, prayers to the sky.
All over the household her curses they flew
To a house full- all woken, and grandchildren too

And then, in a twinkling, I heard from my room
The prancing and shuffling as here came my groom.
As I drew in my head and was turning around
Down the hallway my hubby came with a bound.

He was dressed in flannel from his foot to his head,
And his pj’s were checkered with greens and with reds.
A bundle of keys he had hung as a batch,
And he looked like a locksmith just opening his latch.

His eyes how they twinkled! His eyes not merry!
His cheeks were like roses, because he was weary!
The scowl on his mouth was drawn up like a bow
So my face turned pale, as white as the snow.

The clench of his fist he held tight as his teeth,
Smoke seemed to encircle his head like a wreath.
He had a mad face and a little round belly
That shook as he walked like a small bowl of jelly.

He was coming quite fast, a mother to scold,
And I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.
The twitch in his eye and the twist of his head
Soon gave her to know she had something to dread.

He spoke not a word but went straight to work.
He picked up his mother, and turned with a jerk.
And pointing his finger at her as he warned:
“Do not let me hear you again until mourn!”

He sprang to the door, and to me gave a whistle.
And away we both flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim ere we walked out of sight,
“Merry Christmas my love and to all a good night!”

-By Karen Santiago