(With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore . . .)
A Visit from St. Nicholas
'Twas the morning of Christmas, and all through our house,
Every creature was nibbling, there was nothing left for a mouse.
The stockings were yanked from the chimney, now bare,
'Cause I'm telling y'all, there were some good treats in there!
The children were all wrestling to be the first fed,
With visions of "cookies for breakfast!" they said.
And Momma sipping coffee, with some Kahlua splashed in Pap's,
They both had pipe dreams of later taking much-needed naps.
When out on the porch there arose such a clatter,
It was the family en masse, their hearts all pitter-patter . . .
For the spread we all knew would be gone in a dash,
As they tore open the plastic wrap and kick-started our bash.
There were biscuits and muffins and pies made from fresh dough,
With glistening candies - low in calories? Heck no!
When what to my salivating tongue did appear,
But a platter of sausage balls made by my mother dear.
With a comforting warm center and a spicy little kick,
I knew in a moment I'd better grab a few quick!
More rapid than eagles the family all came,
As they jockeyed for position and refused to be tame.
"What's that?" pointed Sis, trying to divert my attention,
But little did she know there were more in the kitchen.
So I raided that stash and strolled down the hall,
To the living room, where the kids were sure having a ball . . .
Opening the abundance of presents we all did buy,
Resulting in credit card bills that will be shockingly high.
So back to the Kahlua, this storyteller flew,
For a cup full of Christmas joy to help forget about bills due.