(A Visit from a Silent Sister of the Perpetual Expletive)

'Twas the Night before Christmas and all through our home,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Gnome;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
And all hoped that SANTA CLAUS soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While pictures of Wii consoles danced in their heads.
We had all suffered hugely from pre-Christmas strife,
(There'd been rows with the cat, with the dog, with the wife.)

When out on the lawn there arose such a din,
A burglar was stealing our new eco-bin.
So away to the door step, I flew like a flash,
(We needed that bin, it had cost lots of cash.)

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the bin and the burglar a warm Christmas glow,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But Beryl the Gnome and eight tiny reindeer,

She cornered the burglar and cried, "What's your game?",
And he squirmed and he struggled but gave her his name
The man wasn't stupid, he knew he was licked,
When Beryl said, "Sunshine, you've just been SAINT NICKED !"

Then Beryl called out to the reindeer team,
Their nostrils a-flare and their eyes all a-gleam,
"Come DASHER, come DANCER, come PRANCER, come VIXEN
On COMET, on CUPID, on DONNER and BLITZEN

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all,"
So up to the house-top the reindeer flew,
With the sleigh full of presents, and with Beryl too,

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I closed the front door, and was turning around,
From the fire-place Beryl came out with a bound.

She was dressed in her habit, and from head to foot
Her wimple and kirtle were blackened with soot;
A bundle of presents she'd flung on her back,
(She looked like the burglar but without the sack.)

But her eyes -- how they twinkled! her dimples, how girly!
Her lip-gloss it glistened, her hair - it was curly.
She came in quite boldly, she wasn't secretive
And there never was sound of a single EXPLETIVE!

"I'm doing a favour for SANTA," she said,
The silly old chap has an pain in the  head.
I told him," she added, " I said not to Wassail
But now his hangover's next door to colossal!"

She was practiced and polished, a competent gnome
And truly a pleasure to have in our home.
She ate four mince pies, drank three bottles of beer.
(From this Silent Sis, there was nothing to fear.)

Then she didn't speak further, but went straight to work,
She filled up the stockings, and turned with a jerk,
And tapping the side of her nose with a finger,
Said, "I do hope your Christmas will be a HUMDINGER."

She shot up the flue, to the team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew just  like  down from a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, as she drove out of sight,
"THE EXPLETIVE BE WITH YOU!  I BID YOU GOOD-NIGHT."

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