Monday, 26 December 2016
Life After Christmas
‘Twas the night after Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a debtor was stirring, not even a souse.
The bills were all piled with trembling care,
In hopes the costs would not cause a scare.
The investors were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of profits danced in their heads;
And The Spouse in his jammies, and I in my wrap
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and tossed aside cash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a big bill collector and a tingle of fear,
With a long list of purchases that just made me sick,
I knew in a moment it must be Old Nick.
More rapid than eagles owed purchases came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Macy’s and Amazon! A bookstore or three!
Presents galore all under the tree!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now pay for them, pay for them, pay for them all!”
As our bills before the hurricane fly,
When they meet with a credit card and mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the collectors they flew,
With a sleigh full of payables and Old Nick, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The gnawing and nagging of all of the proof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Old Nick came with a bound.
He was dressed all in scales, from horns to his hoof,
And his flames gave off black ashes and poof!
A bundle of bills he had flung on his back,
And he laughed like a demon as he opened his pack.
His eyes – how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His fanged mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the rasp of his voice said, “Oh, how you owe!”
The stump of my life he held tight in his teeth,
And my bills encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook as he laughed like Machiavelli.
He was chubby and plump, a right nasty old self,
And I shuddered and cried, because of my delf;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had oodles to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings with bills – what a jerk!
And flipping the finger alongside his nose,
And giving a nod, up in flames he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like a ballistic missile,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“You suckers! You suckers! I don’t envy your plight!”