Today I have a present for you.
I know I’ve said I’m not really in to Christmas this year, but I can still act cheerful and pleasant. In fact if I hadn’t told you, you probably wouldn’t guess at all. Either way, I just haven’t been feeling it this year. However, Here’s a poem I wrote as part of a joke with my friend.

‘Twas a christmas eve night, when all through the house,
Not a critter did stir not even a mouse;
And not that we had them I’d just like to say,
But the house was silent in every way;
The stockings they hung quite empty and still,
In silence they waited for St. Nick to fill;
The children were tucked in, safe in their beds,
While thoughts of new toys filled up their heads;
With my wife in her night gown the sheets to my chest,
We’d just settled down to try for some rest;
When somewhere outside there was such a racket,
I coughed and I sneezed and I choked on my bracket;
I dashed to the window for what I could see,
And grabbed up my bat to come protect me;
The moon on the snow made it easy to see,
What objects outside could possibly be;
When what do I spot with my own two eyes,
But some sort of sleigh and eight walri;
And a driver unseen who directed the crew,
I had had my doubts but thought I knew who;
On the wind they all surfed and steadily came,
And their driver in accents did call them by name;
Now, Splasher! now, Slipper! now, Flipper and Boris!
On, Rocket! on, rupert! on, wallie and Horis;
To the balcony rail, to the roof and don’t fall,
Now fly away! fly away! fly away! all;
Faster than seals, they flew to the roof,
And the sound that I heard was no kind of hoof;
With nine healthy thwacks I knew they had landed,
And i began to fear from this possible bandit;
I withdrew my bat to head for the phone,
When a soot cloud stopped me with an audible grown;
It was covered in fur, from head to its toe,
Now black with soot once white as the snow;
It had a great sack, heavy and full,
And whatever was in it gave quite a pull;
It wore a gold scarf and a cap all in green,
And though he was ursine he didn’t look mean;
And with his green robe trimmed in soft-looking down,
I thought, to myself now who is this clown;
He walked not on four legs like any old beast,
But he stood like a man and was giant at least;
“Just who are you?” I asked, as he began walking,
As he loaded the tree and filled all the stockings;
“I’m Christov Bear,” he said with a wink,
And his accent was russian, or that’s what I think;
“So what happened to santa?” I asked, as I doubted,
“He worked us too hard, so now he’s been outed”;
“Well what of the sleigh pulled by eight reindeer?”
“I now have eight walruses, so the reindeer aren’t here.”
And then he was gone up the chimney he rose,
As swift as a kitten, as silent as a ghost;
And would anyone believe this strangest of tails,
I thought, as from the sky I heard Christov hail;
“Next time I’ll knock, right at the front door,
Merry Christmas you all and may you have many more.”