hellzabeth (
hellzabeth) wrote2010-12-25 01:32 am
What's that sound on the roof top....
Twas the Night Before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, but the computer mouse
The stockings were hung by the fire with glee
In hopes there'd be presents they'd wake up to see
It was perfect, a postcard portrait, except
For the young girl upstairs, who still had not slept.
Many nights in a row, she'd retired at 5
That's morning, not evening, oh how'd she survive
her family's gathering, tomorrow at ten,
That's AM not PM, when she normally slept then.
The best answer, it seemed was to turn off the lappy,
try her best to shut down, so she wouldn't feel crappy.
But alas, it seeed her best efforts were naught,
And she knew there'd be trouble, if she were caught.
She sat up and waited, and moaned in despair,
For she could hear mother ascending the stair.
In a panic she rushed, and dived for her bed,
hoping dear mummy would check Fluff instead.
The footsteps walked past her, and she let out a sigh,
when heavier footfalls suddenly came by.
She froze in her bed, and squeezed shut her eyes
A burglar on Christmas? What a horrid surprise.
He wasn't that quiet, the intruder bloke,
He seemed to have something caught in his throat.
His coughs sounded like chuckles, but that can't be right
Surely this man was looking for a fight.
She picked up the broom lying on the floor,
Moving to stand just behind her door,
Calming her breathing, she tried to be zen,
Tried to imagine she was a slayer of men.
"Ho ho ho" said the burglar, his voice strangely kind,
The girl thought of ninjas, and with that in mind,
She opened her door, and crept down the hall,
To find the burglar and mum having a ball.
"Do stay for a cuppa, you work ever so hard."
said mother, handing the strange man a card.
The rotund man smiled, from ear to ear
"Worry not my dear woman, I'll see you next year."
The young girl woke up the next morning in bed
with images of the dream going round in her head
She rolled on her side, and was startled to see
The broom, in her bed, right next to her knee.
Not a creature was stirring, but the computer mouse
The stockings were hung by the fire with glee
In hopes there'd be presents they'd wake up to see
It was perfect, a postcard portrait, except
For the young girl upstairs, who still had not slept.
Many nights in a row, she'd retired at 5
That's morning, not evening, oh how'd she survive
her family's gathering, tomorrow at ten,
That's AM not PM, when she normally slept then.
The best answer, it seemed was to turn off the lappy,
try her best to shut down, so she wouldn't feel crappy.
But alas, it seeed her best efforts were naught,
And she knew there'd be trouble, if she were caught.
She sat up and waited, and moaned in despair,
For she could hear mother ascending the stair.
In a panic she rushed, and dived for her bed,
hoping dear mummy would check Fluff instead.
The footsteps walked past her, and she let out a sigh,
when heavier footfalls suddenly came by.
She froze in her bed, and squeezed shut her eyes
A burglar on Christmas? What a horrid surprise.
He wasn't that quiet, the intruder bloke,
He seemed to have something caught in his throat.
His coughs sounded like chuckles, but that can't be right
Surely this man was looking for a fight.
She picked up the broom lying on the floor,
Moving to stand just behind her door,
Calming her breathing, she tried to be zen,
Tried to imagine she was a slayer of men.
"Ho ho ho" said the burglar, his voice strangely kind,
The girl thought of ninjas, and with that in mind,
She opened her door, and crept down the hall,
To find the burglar and mum having a ball.
"Do stay for a cuppa, you work ever so hard."
said mother, handing the strange man a card.
The rotund man smiled, from ear to ear
"Worry not my dear woman, I'll see you next year."
The young girl woke up the next morning in bed
with images of the dream going round in her head
She rolled on her side, and was startled to see
The broom, in her bed, right next to her knee.
