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The Night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and down the rain poured,
Black cloud coated skies as the icy wind roared,
But in slippers and snow-patterned socks sitting cosy
Mum and Dad on one sofa, wearing Festive red hats,
On the other with antlers, sat Jack, Luke and Nats.

Warm jumpers with reindeer and snowmen aplenty,
Adorned by each member and cost just over twenty.
Frank Capra’s big hit is our festive selection,
A film so fantastic it’s close to perfection.
It’s A Wonderful Life!’ George Bailey maintains,
“I’m off to the pub!” my brother exclaims.

A large glass of Baileys for the girls if you please,
Whilst holding off thoughts of the January squeeze.
Christmas songs blaring, Cliff, Wizzard and Slade,
The Pogues, The Pretenders, Bing Crosby, Band Aid.       
“I was friends with George Michael before the Wham! days,”
Dad waffles on proudly as 'Last Christmas' plays.

Stockings hung high and the presents wrapped neatly,
Laying soft in our beds all dreaming so sweetly
Of bright Festive Cheer on a grand Christmas morning.
Dawn not yet broken, tired eyes droop and yawning,
Reluctantly tearing away from warm covers,
First down the stairs is the younger of brothers.

And what should he find but a marvellous sight,
His face fills with joy and true festive delight,
As his eyes meet upon treats piled up so tall,
Stacks upon stacks of both gifts big and small.
Embellished with glitter and tied up in a bow,
With scarlet red ribbons and sparkle for show.

An empty plate left where a Mince Pie has been
For grand old Saint Nick who had licked the plate clean.
An empty glass drained of a Winter night's fuel,
Delivering gifts in the season of Yule.
The bells sounding softly with reindeer in flight,
Attached to the sleigh on a cold frosty night.

Church bells a-ringing as Christmas morn breaks,
With each child, ecstatic, in bed quickly wakes.
Playing with toys so impressive and new,
Not one of them naughty with no coal in view.
Thrilled and contented, each wears a large grin,
Dad making the coffee, Mum starting on gin.

Our spirits not dampened by wet windy weather,
That festive cheer oozing all snuggled together,
While watching those classics, a mince pie in hand,
Sing carols much louder than vocals can stand.
“Christmas is here!” we proclaim with such glee.

The best Christmas yet it is sure set to be.

This post first appeared on Chatalie The Natabox, please read the originial post: here

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The Night before Christmas


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