Poetic Opus Of Holiday Proportions

Today is officially Christmas Eve and I would like to commemorate this solemn occasion with a festive bit of holiday poetry that I composed this time last year.

It is a deeply moving poem, known to calm unruly children and bring tears to the eyes of even the most hardened combat stenographers. It has the power to mend broken glands and bring waring factions to unconditional and mutual surrender. It is to verse what Donald Trump is to finance: bloated and largely irrelevant.

To properly appreciate the context of this literary masterpiece, a little background is in order.

And here it is:

With that performance fresh in your cortex, you are now prepared for that classic gem of lyrical expression: The Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all ’round the Couch,
The ninjas were restless from their long stealthy crouch

They sat simply silent with their stars, swords and sighs
Enveloped in blackness except for their eyes

When in from the kitchen with pastrami on rye
Strode my good friend Wilh, a most vigilant guy

He was just sitting down for a holiday snack
When a sound in the night led him to fear attack

He dashed to the window and threw up the blinds
His hair all aquiver like drunk porcupines

He snatched up a weapon and soon sighted in
Just as the strange sound was starting again

Then with a crackle of eye-bruising light
A bolt from his ray-gun tore open the night

And raising his voice at the trespassing soul
He called out the window through the new melted hole

Run Ninja! Run blackmask!
Run sly sneakaround!
Hide coward, hide pansy
And no more come round
Return to this house
Return and know I’ll
Decimate, decrapitate
And deflate you all

Then out from the darkness, all singey and burned
Crawled a repentant ‘possem, his lesson well learned

So puzzled and tired and scratching his head
The gun wielding Smodder slunk off to bed

The still hidden ninjas all sighed at the sight
And continued their watch o’re the now silent night

Merry Christmas everyone, and be sure to vote to save Huey Lewis from obscurity.

This post is hanging from humor-blogs.com like a dingy and somewhat smelly stocking.

Tagged as: Christmas, comedy, Danger Couch, holiday, humor, poetry, video