Friday, June 04, 2010

The Surprise Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring—except for this mouse.

The mouse traps were laid by their small hole with care

In hopes that a mouse soon would be caught there.

The mousebabes were nestled all snug in their nests

While visions of cheese and stuff danced in their heads.

Mamma Mouse in her Kleenex, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap

When outside the hole, there arose such a pong,

I sprang from my nest to see what was wrong.

Away to the mousehole I ran like a flash.

That horrible smell smelled a bit like burnt hash.

When what, to my small, beady eyes should appear

But a enormous rat—and eight tiny reindeer!

That fat, evil driver, not lively and quick,

I knew in a moment that it must be Rat Nick!

More rapid than cats, his coursers they came,

And he squeaked, and he squealed, and he called them by name;

“Now Slasher! Now Basher! Now Crasher and Witchy!

Now Bomber! Now Putrid! Now Evil and Bitchy!

To the bottom of the floor! Now the top of the tree!

Now run away, run away, run away, flee!”

As dry leaves that 'fore the wild tornado fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the tree the coursers they flew,

With a sleigh, some dead mice, and Rat Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard with great awe

The prancing and scurrying of each little paw.

As I drew in my head and was turning around

Through that small hole Rat Nick came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his tip to his tail

And all of the fur told the horrible tale

Of mice that had given their valuable lives

Yet so seemingly worthless, as written by scribes.

His eyes, oh so evil! His paws, oh so scary!

His face was a nightmare, his nose a black cherry.

His rotten black teeth all fell out one by one,

And the fur on his body gave off a bad pong.

The tail of a mouse he held tight in his teeth,

And the stink, it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a thin face and an over-sized bulge,

That obviously, Rat Nick liked to indulge.

He was awful and bad, an evil old elf,

And I squeaked when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A glint in his eye and a twist of his head,

Made me feel so scared that I wished I had fled.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all our stockings, then turned with a jerk,

And putting a paw on the side of his snout,

He gave a small nod, through the hole he was out.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him squeak as he drove out of sight,

"Be glad that I spared you, mouse, now good night!"

"Miracles do not defy nature; rather, they defy what we know of nature." St. Augustine.


Reogan said...

A perversion of poetry? I should try my hand at this.

Reogan said...

Also? Your meter was off.

Elphaba said...

Not all of us have the innate ability to write in perfect meter. Considering I wrote this over two years ago, it's pretty good.

Reogan said...

What one lacks in ability, one must make up for in effort. For something older, though, you may have a sliver of forgiveness.

MNTY said...

that's cute. i liked it.

but i don't think 'pong' rhymes with 'one.' also, what does 'pong' mean?

Elphaba said...

"Pong" is a word for a smell, particularly a bad smell. And yeah, it totally doesn't. Like I said, this was written awhile ago.