Laughs
T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the chalet,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the valet;
The skis and boards were lined up with care,
In hopes that a snowstorm soon would be there.
The riders were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of fresh tracks danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ski underwear, and I in my cap,
Had just settled in for a pre-snowstorm nap.
When out on the ski slopes arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and saw a snow stash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the 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 snow, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in his bib pants, fat skis in his arm:
“Wake up all the riders, rouse the alarm!
I brought with me powder straight from the North Pole
Get into your ski gear, let’s not get ol’!”
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
And the beard of his chin was covered in snow.
”Bring out your snorkle, the pow is knee-deep!”
I looked at St. Nick, stunned and wiping the sleep
straight out off my eyes and jumped into my gear.
Hooray to the first powder-day of the year!
“Thank you,” I said, “It was all I wanted”
“Well, have you been good?” The old man taunted.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, down the powder he rode;
He jumped over his sleigh, to his team 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.”
