Twas the night before Christmas, when all over the world
Parents were trying to bribe boys and girls
The cattle were lowing in a manger somewhere
In hopes that Santa Claus soon would be there
The children were standing at windows to peep
Saying over and over I can’t get to sleep
With Mum in the kitchen and Dad in the pub
I lay there thinking of Xmas day grub
When in to my room on the tiniest breeze
Came the slightest sound of a feverish sneeze
I went to the window and stared into the night
On the rooftop next door I noticed a light
I crept from my room and into the hall
Down the stairs and out through the front door
When what to my wondering eyes did appear
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With a little old driver who looked very sick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick
“Hey Santa, what’s wrong?” I called to the man
And he beckoned to me with a slight wave of hand
“I’m sorry my dear I have a bad cold
My head is so sore and I’m just feeling old
I know that on me the kids all rely
But tonight I’m afraid I don’t want to fly”
“I’ll help you,” I said climbing into the sleigh
With Santa beside me I picked up the reigns
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
From the rooftop up high to the top of a wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
So off round the world with the reindeer we flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too
As he shivered we flew from village to town
To deliver the goods that for children, were bound
As we flew through the night I got such a thrill
Even though Santa was terribly ill
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all blotted with ashes and soot
His eyes—how they watered, his dimples, once merry
His cheeks were all sallow, his nose like a cherry!
“It won’t be much longer Santa,” I said
“Just a few more stops and then straight home to bed”
He snuggled right up in his fluffy fine wear
And I smiled to myself because I was there
No one would believe me when I told my saga
They’d say what a shame, Sandra’s gone gaga
When I woke the next morn, on new day so clean
I pondered the night, had it all been a dream?
But tucked in the pocket of my warmest coat
From the jolly old man was a thank you note
A secret for me and one that I’d shield
‘Til this Xmas eve when I decided to yield
That Once upon a time in a wonderful way
Father Christmas was sick and I saved the day
So where ever you are when you read of this plight
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Sandra Maggs 