Twas the Thursday before Christmas, my pen I lay down.
The stockings were hung but not with much care
And tinsel still glittered as it stuck to my hair.
Characters and plots weren't all nestled in my head
As visions of a best seller danced there instead.
The stories would wait as I settled my cap
And wished I could take a long winter's nap.
Out on my lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
My nose to the window, I knew in a flash,
My husband had tumbled while making his dash
To set up the reindeer and shovel the snow
And put up the lights that we'd see from below.
Then what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a small white truck parking by our reindeer.
The little old driver so nimble and quick
I knew in a moment it was Mailman Nick.
Quick as a bunny up the sidewalk he came
Passing the deer and calling them by name:
Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen
Comet and Cupid and Donder and Blitzen
To the top of the porch and just past the wall
He hefted the big box and then let it fall.
As winds blow and snowflakes fly
I leapt as an obstacle that takes to the sky.
So out to the porch was the course that I flew
To grab the big box and wave to Nicholas too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard hubby say,
"I need help. Can you put that away?"
As I drew in my head and was turning around
In the door came my husband with a leap and a bound.
He was dressed all in flannel from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A string of lights was tossed over his back
And he looked like the character I'd named Jack.
His eyes didn't twinkle, his dimples weren't merry
His cold cheeks like roses, his nose like a cherry,
His blue little mouth puckered like a bow,
And a beard on his chin was just made out of snow.
The clips for the lights he held tight in his teeth.
His hands circled the air as if drawing a wreath.
A grin broadened my face, my hand held my belly
As it shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
He looked in distress not like a jolly old elf.
I was sorry I'd laughed, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a nod of his head
And soon we both laughed with nothing to dread.
I spoke not a word and set my box down
Then turned to my husband and mimicked a frown.
And tapping a finger on top of his nose,
And giving a nod on my tiptoes I rose.
I quick gave a kiss, his ego I soothed
My "best seller" would wait until later I mused.
But I heard him exclaim, "I'm okay, no bother.
Merry Christmas to you, my little author!"
Merry Christmas to All!