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TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE Christmas
- Dieter's Version

Twas the night before Christmas and all round my hips
were Fannie May candies that sneaked past my lips.
Fudge brownies were stored in the freezer with care
In hopes that my thighs would forget they were there.

While Mama in her my girdle and I in chin straps
Had just settled down to sugar-borne naps.
When out in the pantry there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the kitchen I flew like a flash
Tore open the icebox then threw up the sash.
The marshmallow look of the new-fallen snow
Sent thoughts of a binge to my body below.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear:
A marzipan Santa with eight chocolate reindeer!
That huge chunk of candy so luscious and slick
I knew in a second that I'd wind up sick.

The sweet-coated santa, those sugared reindeer
I closed my eyes tightly but still I could hear;
On Pritzker, on Stillman, on weak one, on TOPS
A Weight Watcher dropout from sugar detox.

>From the top of the scales to the top of the hall
Now dash away pounds now dash away all.
Dressed up in Lane Bryant from my head to nightdress
My clothes were all bulging from too much excess.

My droll little mouth and my round little belly
They shook when I laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
I spoke not a word but went straight to my work
Ate all of the candy then turned with a jerk.

And laying a finger beside my heartburn
I gave a quick nod toward the bedroom I turned.
I eased into bed, to the heavens I cry
If temptation's removed I'll get thin by and by.

And I mumbled again as I turned for the night
In the morning I'll starve... 'til I take that first bite!

Oh wow...this is perfect LOL

Any idea who wrote it?

Have a beautiful Christmas, Amy & Jim.
I count Free Republic as one of my favorite blessings.

Mornin', everybody ! Merry Christmas Eve !

Have a cup while you Freep !

lookin' for robert blake.....

Great spoof!

'Twas The Night Before Christmas - Verbose Version

'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the
annual Yuletide celebration, and throughout our place of residence,
kinetic activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this
potential, including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus
musculus.

Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of
the wood burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory
pleasure regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric
philanthropist among whose folkloric appellations is the honorific
title of St. Nicholas.

The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their
respective accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious
visual hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving
rhythmically through their cerebrums.

My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head
coverings, were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal
darkness when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds
there ascended such a cacophony of dissonance that I felt compelled
to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the purpose of
ascertaining the precise source thereof.

Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers
sealing this fenestration, noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance
without, reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline
precipitation, might be said to rival that of the solar meridian
itself - thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to
behold a miniature airborne runnered conveyance drawn by eight
diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer, piloted by a minuscule,
aged chauffeur so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly
apparent to me that he was indeed our anticipated caller.

With his ungulate motive power travelling at what may possibly
have been more vertiginous velocity than patriotic alar predators, he
vociferated loudly, expelled breath musically through contracted
labia, and addressed each of the octet by his or her respective
cognomen - "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. - guiding them to the
uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which structure I
could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the 32 cloven
pedal extremities.

As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was
performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant
achieved - with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry
by way of the smoke passage.

He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony residue
from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated
on the walls thereof.

His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed largely to the
plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in a
commodious cloth receptacle.

His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his
submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging
amiability.

The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance were
engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the
former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the latter
that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry.

His amusing sub- and supralabials resembled nothing so much as a
common loop knot, and their ambient hirsute facial adornment
appeared like small, tabular and columnar crystals of frozen water.

Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey
fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive
of a decorative seasonal circlet of holly.

His visage was wider than it was high, and when he waxed audibly
mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region undulated in the manner
of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical container.

He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese, jocund,
multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me
visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being.

By rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his
head slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part
was groundless.

Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned
articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned
previously dorsally transported cloth receptacle.

Upon completion of this task, he executed an abrupt about- face,
placed a single manual digit in lateral juxtaposition to his olfactory
organ, inclined his cranium forward in a gesture of leave-taking, and
forthwith effected his egress by renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke
passage.

He then propelled himself in a short vector onto his conveyance,
directed a musical expulsion of air through his contracted oral
sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of burden, and proceeded to
soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable chiefly among the
seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I overheard his parting
exclamation, audible immediately prior to his vehiculation beyond the
limits of visibility:

"Ecstatic Yuletide to the planetary constituency, and to that self
same assemblage, my sincerest wishes for a salubriously beneficial
and gratifyingly pleasurable period between sunset and dawn."

To new friends and old friends ~
to all who have brought poems, potpourri, inspiration,
laughter and smiles, prayers and good cheer
to Amy's Place, I wish you Peace, Love and Joy.

May you and your family have a Blessed Christmas.

Hi everyone!

Christmas

The stockings are hung,
the carols are being sung.
My heart is filled with joy,
along with every girl and boy.
It's really hard to go to sleep,
you want to go and take a peep.
And, when you're finally in bed,
visions of Santa dance in your head.

You wake up at eight,
it's already late!
You wake up your Mom and Dad,
they are never as glad.
Once you're all awake,
you eat some coffee cake.
You run down to the tree,
you cannot believe what you see.

Your stockings are overflowing,
everyone's face is glowing.
You must open family presents first,
you're so excited you just might burst.
Then Santa's are the next to go,
you tear off the wrapping and the bow.
You rip them open one by one,
seeing toy after toy, each filled with fun.

And after about an hour,
your face begins to turn sour.
There's nothing left under the tree,
you have very little glee.
But, then a car pulls in,
with presents wrapped in tin.
Your cousins are here,
bearing more Christmas cheer.

There is then, many holiday greetings,
more and more joyful meetings.
The present opening order shifts,
and you begin to open more gifts.
And when the good-byes have been said,
it's time to shower and make your bed.

Once everyone is out,
there is no reason to pout.
You pile into your car,
you don't have to travel very far.
You're off to another family meeting,
you're welcomed with a warm greeting.
You eat an excellent dinner,
the fire is keeping you from the wind of winter.
You open some more toys,
with your cousins, girl and boys.

Once your thank-yous have been said,
you are definitely ready for bed.
You tell everyone good-night,
and your heart becomes light.
And while in bed,
the day dances in your head.
You thank the Lord for today,
while you slowly drift away.

--Jean Reidy, 1997