‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through pub land
Not a patron was stirring, not even the pub band;
The stockings were hung by the fireplace with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The barmaids were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Christmas tips danced in their heads;
And Tequila in her ‘kerchief, and Pint in his cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,
When at midnight without too much chatter,
I snuck from my cot in the cellar to tend to what mattered.
Away to the stairway I climbed without sound,
Stealthily opened the door and quietly looked around.
The glow from the fireplace fell across the barroom space.
It Gave the light of late-evening to objects as my heart raced,
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But a miniature beagle, and my love’s wonderful pair,
With a quiet little walk, so stealthy and quick,
I knew in a moment I must play St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, my breathing it came,
And read off the stockings, and called them by name;
“There is Scotch, now, Rum, now, Margareta and Bourbon!
On to Sherry on Vodka on to Gin and Rum!
Across the top of the fireplace and down both sides.
Baby Jesus please help me there are a lot of people who reside.
As my fingers that before the happy hour fly,
When they meet with a challenge, to serve with speed like jets who cross the sky,
So into a barrel my arms they did flew,
With a grunt and a heave, pulled up a sack full of theology, and philosophy too.
Needless to say, I was standing dripping in sweat.
My panting and pawing might have woke up those sleeping at the chess set.
As I drew in my hand, and searching the bag,
My hands fell around the first gift and only then did my lungs sag.
I was dressed all in fur, from my head to my foot,
And his clothes were at least not tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle I had saved from renting the Santa suit,
But I would be damned if I was coming down the chimney route.
My eyes — how they grew tired! my fingers they trembled!
My cheeks were sore, My nose itched like (you rhyme a word with trembled) !
Some drool left my mouth which was drawn up like a bow,
And the fake beard on my chin was as white as the snow;
I don’t smoke so there was no pipe in my teeth,
And the smoke from the fireplace encircled my head like a wreath;
I had a narrow face and a little round belly,
That shook and reminded me to head to the gym before I turned to jelly.
I was stumbling and bumbling, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I thought about it, in spite of myself;
A flutter of Tequila’s eyes and a twist of Pint’s head,
Soon gave me a heart attack but really I had nothing to dread;
I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying my finger under my nose,
And giving a nod, I stopped a sneeze that arose;
I snuck back downstairs to my cot, to my pillow I nestled,
And away my worries all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard my heart exclaim, ere the world fell from my sight,
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!“
Welcome to All Things Rabyd, your friendly neighborhood ‘clothing optional’ theology pub. I, the Rabyd Theologian and your bartender, thank you for stopping by. Please drink your theology responsibly or have a designated driver to get you home. Please tip your waitress and they might give you a kiss on the cheek. Just remember life is short so enjoy it. Blessings and Cheers!