Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house

Not a computer was whirring not even a mouse

The online shopping had all been done

Though the sprouts and the stuffing were barely begun

The children were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of Playstations danced in their heads

And Mum in her Onesie was faint from the heat

And Dad pulled his musical socks on his feet

Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

I sprung from the bed to see what was the matter

Had inflatable Santa flown over the privet

Or the LED flashing elf done something illicit

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of midday to objects below

When what to my wandering 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 St Nick

More rapid than eagles his reindeer they came

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name

Now Niall, now Louis, Now Liam and Harry

Now you Zayn, on Simon, on Sharon and Gary

St Nick had made the X Factor connection

As his reindeer are named for the band One Direction

It wasn’t my B&Q Christmas Array

That I saw through the window just over the way

But then onto the house top the reindeer they flew

With a 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 abound

Or doubtless he would have, but the truth be told

Our house is not terribly old

We don’t have a chimney, just a central heating flue

But St Nick, he still managed to worm his way through

Over the centuries he’s become quite adept

At working out where all the stockings are kept

As if by some magic he appeared by the Telly

With a smile on his face and a great wobbly belly

He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot

He took a short step and then let out a shout

When he fell, having slipped on a peeled brussel sprout

Though he knocked over his sherry and squashed his mince pie

He didn’t get flustered or once lose his poise

His eyes – how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, it must be the sherry

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work

And filled all the stockings then turned with a jerk

He waved a goodbye and without further ado

He hoicked up his cloak and was whisked up the flue

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 exclaim, ere he drove out of sight

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night”