Twas the night

13 December 2000

Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the castle
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a vassel.

The stockings were hung
On the mantle..so high
In hopes that the odor
Would rise to the sky

I the mage Spellsinger
All snuggled in bed
Had just settled down
to rest weary head

When up on the ramparts
I heard such a clatter
One eye popped wide open
and muttered.."what does it matter"?

For ain't I a great mage
with spells ready to hand
If anyone bothers me
I'll roast em..I can!

When down through the chimney
Some boots could be seen
Something was coming
interrupting my dream.

I reached for my bag
with reagents to spare
In hopes I could flame em
And burn off his hair

With magic words
armed and ready to fling,
The jolly ole elf
softly started to sing.

"Merry Chr....ahhh",
He started to yell
When my fireball hit em
like wind on a sail

Quick as a wink
he shot up the shaft
muttering things...
heard from the sailors craft

I jumped from the bed
and ran to the window
as the sleigh and reindeer
shot off like a kinder (puck)

"Blast you ole goat"
I heard him shout back
As he beat at the flames
that was burning his sack

I shrugged my shoulders
As I turned to my bed
And climbing back in
I muttered and said.

"Another year..
too many to know,
he has tried that same trick
to try some foul blow!"

"to sneak up..surprise me
at the same time of year
I never have found out
What goal he had here"