Maggie's pawsability thought
for the day:
"Love is what's in the room with you at
Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."
by
MaggieMooseTracks®© and a little help
from
Clement Clarke Moore or Henry
Livingston
'Twas the twig
before Twigmas, when all through the house
Not a creature
was stirring, not even a grouse;
The stockings
were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that
St. Twigolas soon would be there;
The moose were
nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions
of birch-bark danced in their heads;
And mama in her
kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just
settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the
meadow there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from
the bush to see what was the matter.
Away to the
thicket I flew like a flash,
Tore open the
branches to see at last.
The moon on the
breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre
of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to
my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature
sleigh, and eight tiny moosedeer,
With a little
old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a
moment it must be St. Twik.
More rapid than
eagles his coursers they came,
And he
whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now Dasher!
now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on
Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of
the trees! to the top of the tall!
Now dash away!
dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves
that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet
with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the
tree-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh
full of toys, and St. Twigolas too.
And then, in a
twinkling, I heard on the woof
The prancing
and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my
antlers, and was turning around,
Down the alders
St. Twigolas came with a bound.
He was dressed
all in fur, from his head to his sleeves,
And his clothes
were all covered with tree cones and leaves;
A bundle of
toys 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 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 broad
face and a little round belly,
That shook,
when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
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, up the alders 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 TWIGMAS
to all, and to all a good-night."
crunch
crunch
Flint kitty
*Wordless Wednesday with a lot of words...
*Wordless Wednesday with a lot of words...
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