Twas the night before christmas and all through the ship,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Tribble.
The stockings were hung by the replicator with care,
In hopes that Saint Nick would soon be there.
The crew were all nestled, snug in their bunks,
While visions of shore leave danced in their heads.
And Number One with his Scotch, and I with my X.O.,
Had just settled in for a long, cold cruise.
When out on the hull there rose such a clatter, I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Up to the view screen I flew like a flash, zeroed the screen and threw on the lights.
The stars on the breast of the shimmering hull,
Gave light to the shadow of the objects afore.
And what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old captain so nimble and quick,
I knew in an instant it must be Saint Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his courses they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
"Now Dasher! and Dancer!,
Now Prancer! and vixen!,
On Comet, on Cupid,
On Donner and Blitzen!."
"To the top of the dish,
To the top of the bridge,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all."
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they met with an obstacle, mount to the stars,
So up to the air locks the courses they flew,
With the sleigh full of presents and Saint Nicholas too.
And then ,in a twinkling, I heard on the hull,
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof,
As i drew back my head and was turning around,
In through the air lock Santa came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with conduit soot.
A bundle of joys 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 stars.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a warp core breech.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like Kirk's paunchy belly.
He was chubby and plump, 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 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, through the air lock 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, as he flew through the night,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good flight"
Topic: Merry Christmas from the Tavern (Read 1210 times)