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Click on the link below to hear a reading of this charming poem.
2022_FortFamily_Night_Before_Christmas.mp3
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Fort
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Kat,
The stockings were hung by the Hub with care,
In hopes that St. Mikey soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of "Commander Kid" danced in their heads,
The Story Lover and I in our caps,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap...
When out on the Community Site, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my 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.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to all posts below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and a flock of dragons,
With a little old driver, so quick and lively,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Mikey.
More rapid than Garrett & SamIam, his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Comsie! now, Brynmor!, now Eggy!, and Myke D.!
On Boudreaux, on Akeentia!, on Shinichi!, and AC!
To the top of the Fort! to the Café's back 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,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Mikey too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little boot.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney, St. Mikey came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of stories 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 like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
The fake beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a bubble pipe he held in his teeth,
And the bubbles encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little stuffed belly
That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He looked chubby and plump, a right jolly old 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 had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the iPadss; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his teams 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,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
By Major Henry Livingston Jr or Clement Clarke Moore; Updated by The Story Lover, and Jeff P.. Narrated By Jeff P.
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