Christmas Announcements (7)
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Daffy house
Not a Barmaid’s creature was stirring, not even ASBO’s mouse.
The stockings were hung by MargotTester with care,
In hopes that St Ed, an oxymoron of all time, soon would be there.
The ABers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of China Dolls danced in their Prudie heads.
And Mamya in her rowan ‘kerchief, and Bazile in his cap,
Had just settled their redman brains for a long winter’s NoM’s nap.
When out on the tuvok lawn there arose such a clatter,
Bazile sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a jourdain flash,
Tore open the lcg shutters and threw up the corylus sash.
The moon on gavmacp’s breast of the new-fusion5 snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a Ruthann sleigh, and eight Elina reindeer.
With a little old driver, so keyplus and sped,
Bazile knew in a moment it must be that Old Geezer, St Ed.
More rapid than Sammy eagles his flumpy coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Kloofnek! now, Hansuranka! now, Vakayu and Stitcher!
On, Stokey! Mrs Stokey too, Cupid! on, on Butcherbilly & Bouncer!
To the top of the Barsel porch! to the top of the kloofnek wall!
Now some Eccles cakes! Food & Drink! Voddy’s Bread to all!"
As dry Sipowicz leaves that before the wild Excel hurricane fly,
When they meet with a retrochic obstacle, mount to the scorpiojo sky.
So up to the house-top Old Owdhamer’s coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Horsehoes, and St Editor too.
And then, in a twinkling, Bazile heard on the roof
The answerprancing and pawing of each little nessie hoof.
As Bazile drew in his head, and was ferlew turning around,
Down the chimney St Ed came with a yogasun bound.
He was dressed all in catwhiskas fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with desky’s ashes and Ouzel soot.
A bundle of Horseshoes he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a Baldric peddler, just opening his Paddywak pack.
His eyes-how they shaneystar twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like Psybbo’s roses, his nose like a Naomi cherry!
His droll Welshtanner mouth was drawn up like a mrs chappie dough,
And the Bernie beard of his chin was as white as the Polarbear snow.
The stump of an AOG pipe he held tight in his brown teeth,
And the carrust smoke it encircled his head like a slappy wreath.
He had a broad mikey face and a little round Welshie belly,
That pixie shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of emeritus jelly!
He was janbee fit and plump, a right jolly old tony of an elf,
And Bazile laughed when he saw him, in spite of himself!
A wink of his Pagnoli eye and a twist of his vestute head,
Soon gave Bazile to know he had nothing to Lady J dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his Nungate work,
And filled all Minty’s stockings, then turned with a troll’s jerk.
And laying his dunnitall finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the Douglas chimney he rose!
He sprang to his svejk sleigh, his ratter team gave a Mrs O Whitby whistle,
And away they all flew to NetIbiza like the down of a 2sp thistle.
But Bazile heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of talbo sight,
"Happy Christmas to all ABers, and to all Mods a good-night!"