gardenfay
12-19-2007, 06:17 PM
'TWAS THE NIGHT
AFTER CHRISTMAS
(with apologies to C. C. Moore)
'Twas the night after Christmas,
when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, thanks
to my spouse. A feast she had made, complete
with wild game,
And our waistlines, we moaned,
would ne'er be the same.
You see, the night prior, the roof
gave such a clatter, I'd begged my wife sweetly to see
what was the matter. She cursed me quite loudly,
grabbing her gun,
"You're a sniveling coward!" and
to-the window she'd run.
When what to her wondering eyes
should appear, but a man dressed in red and eight
trophy-racked deer. 'That robber is back," my wife
smilingly said,
"Let's hear him 'Ho, Ho!' with his pants full of lead!"
She took careful aim at the yearly
intruder;
For eleven long years he'd man-aged to elude her. As he bent o'er our chimney, fire
burned in her eyes.
Her strong suit was vengeance, to
that I was wise.
The deer seemed to sense some-thing wrong on the roof As they nervously pawed with each
tiny hoof. My wife fired once, she cared not
for talk,
And as BBs hit butt, I heard the man squawk.
As leaves that before the wild
hurricane fly,
The deer sprang from the roof
when the "Red-Man" did cry.
But the moon on the crest of the
new-fallen snow
made them easier targets on the
ground down below.
More scared than injured, the elf
urged their retreat, Clasping his behind and wind-milling his feet. "Run Dasher, run Dancer, run
Prancer, run Blitzen!"
But my wife still nailed two—1
was proud of that vixen.
"And now," grinned the huntress, "we'll have food on the shelf." And I laughed right out loud, in
spite of myself. "Now get out of bed!" she barked
. ' with a shout, "And grab a sharp knife to gut those things out!"
So pulling the finger from inside of
my nose, I gave a meek nod and from my
bed arose. •— -*=*^-I could hear the bells ring on the
last-gasping deer,
And 1 thought to myself, "1 like
living here."
Our food for the winter was. once
more secured, and that crime had been routed for
now was assured.
For Mama in her kerchief and I in
my cap,„-.
had settled up here to avoid
city crap.
We watched as the prowler, like a
big blob of jelly, slithered away through the snow on
LI
7
his knees and his belly. But 1 heard him exclaim, as he
Anniversary &
Announcements Are '!; Available On Our" Web Site: www.trftimes.com
slunk out of sight, "You northern Minnesotans jus: aren't quite right!"^
Author - Tim Lyon
This poem was published in either the Thief River Falls or Crookston newspaper when I lived in nw Minn a few years ago.
AFTER CHRISTMAS
(with apologies to C. C. Moore)
'Twas the night after Christmas,
when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, thanks
to my spouse. A feast she had made, complete
with wild game,
And our waistlines, we moaned,
would ne'er be the same.
You see, the night prior, the roof
gave such a clatter, I'd begged my wife sweetly to see
what was the matter. She cursed me quite loudly,
grabbing her gun,
"You're a sniveling coward!" and
to-the window she'd run.
When what to her wondering eyes
should appear, but a man dressed in red and eight
trophy-racked deer. 'That robber is back," my wife
smilingly said,
"Let's hear him 'Ho, Ho!' with his pants full of lead!"
She took careful aim at the yearly
intruder;
For eleven long years he'd man-aged to elude her. As he bent o'er our chimney, fire
burned in her eyes.
Her strong suit was vengeance, to
that I was wise.
The deer seemed to sense some-thing wrong on the roof As they nervously pawed with each
tiny hoof. My wife fired once, she cared not
for talk,
And as BBs hit butt, I heard the man squawk.
As leaves that before the wild
hurricane fly,
The deer sprang from the roof
when the "Red-Man" did cry.
But the moon on the crest of the
new-fallen snow
made them easier targets on the
ground down below.
More scared than injured, the elf
urged their retreat, Clasping his behind and wind-milling his feet. "Run Dasher, run Dancer, run
Prancer, run Blitzen!"
But my wife still nailed two—1
was proud of that vixen.
"And now," grinned the huntress, "we'll have food on the shelf." And I laughed right out loud, in
spite of myself. "Now get out of bed!" she barked
. ' with a shout, "And grab a sharp knife to gut those things out!"
So pulling the finger from inside of
my nose, I gave a meek nod and from my
bed arose. •— -*=*^-I could hear the bells ring on the
last-gasping deer,
And 1 thought to myself, "1 like
living here."
Our food for the winter was. once
more secured, and that crime had been routed for
now was assured.
For Mama in her kerchief and I in
my cap,„-.
had settled up here to avoid
city crap.
We watched as the prowler, like a
big blob of jelly, slithered away through the snow on
LI
7
his knees and his belly. But 1 heard him exclaim, as he
Anniversary &
Announcements Are '!; Available On Our" Web Site: www.trftimes.com
slunk out of sight, "You northern Minnesotans jus: aren't quite right!"^
Author - Tim Lyon
This poem was published in either the Thief River Falls or Crookston newspaper when I lived in nw Minn a few years ago.