(With apologies to Clement C. Moore)

and all through the keep, not a creature was stirring, cept Murt raiding the fridge.

The stockings were hung in the great hall with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

All the Squires were tucked, snug in their beds, whilst visions of jousting danced in their heads.

And Norie in her 'kerchief, and I in my chain cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap...

When out on the battlement there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the tower I flew like a flash,
Grabbing my sword and threw up the sash.

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 either elves or St. Nick.

More rapid than bard's haste 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, Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the keep! 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 roof the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, 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 all in furs, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

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 as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth on the left, And the smoke it encircled his head like a neat spell effect.

He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook, when he laughed, like a bowl full of ochre jelly.

He was chubby and plump, an overwieght elf???, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head Soon showed me he conned "I had nothing to dread".

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his teams 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 Norrath a good-night!"

ROFL.. Very humorous!

Btw- Murt does raid the fridge at night :P lol

Thanks for that, Bro, that was great.

Merry Christmas to Norie, the lil ones and you. |;D