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Christmas on Wisteria Lane

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Holiday house

Not a creature was stirring, not even Mr. Perez the mouse;

The Alpine Stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled in a Herringbone Throw in their beds;

While visions of Jolly Jellyfish danced in their heads;


 

And mamma with her Wisteria Catalog, and I in my cap,

Had just folded our Gaucho Throw for a long winter’s nap,

When the Seashell Garland shook with a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Ran past the Pueblo Village and threw up the sash.


 

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,

Gave a lustre of midday to the Three Wise Men below,

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But a miniature sleigh and eight Regal White Reindeer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.

So up to the housetop the White Stags they flew

With the sleigh full of toys, and Seaside Santa too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my Notepad, and was turning around,

Down the chimney a more Nordic Santa came with a bound.


 

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

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of Crowns and Stockings on his back,

And Peace on Earth Doves flew out of his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like Rosemaling Candles, his nose like a cherry!


 

His droll little mouth was drawn up like Mistletoe,

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a Cherub face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed, like a Serving Bowl full of jelly.

He was plump like a Kash Birds Pillow, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He placed the Nativity, and went straight to his work,

And filled new Seaside Stockings; then turned with a jerk,


 

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

Atop the Mali Rug, up the chimney he rose;

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!”


This poem is inspired by Clement Clarke Moore’s classic A Visit from St. Nicholas.

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