Post by Achelles on Dec 25, 2003 12:10:18 GMT
ok id like to first say that normally its an established fact that i do not go on forums. however its christmas and i felt the need to show my christmas spirit with a little Bartholomews Night Before Christmas poem. ;D hope you all like it.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the the villa
Not a creature was stirring, not even Maria;
His sword was slung over his shoulder with care,
In hopes that the night would bring to despair;
Maria was nestled all snug in her bed,
While while her little red wings rose and fell over her head;
He touched her little head and pulled on his ring of gold,
For tonight was dead of winter, bitter watch tonight, cold.
When out in the courtyard there arose such a clatter,
He sprang to the window to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to his inquisitors eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
Whoever this demon was we was obesely sick.
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 porch! to the top of the wall!
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 house-top the coursers they flew,
Demons infesting the houses! Bartholomew knew.
And then, in a twinkling, he heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As he drew out his blade, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the demon came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of goods he had flung on his back,
And Bartholomew sprang, before he could attack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
Bartholomew was wise, he'd kill him and not tarry!
He pulled back his fist, his muscles tight as a bow,
And punched the beard of his chin, which was as white as the snow;
The first blow from his fist landed in his teeth,
then he wraped his arm around his neck just like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, with each blow like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a picture of indulgence,
Bartholomew would not let this abomination continue existance;
He took the hilt of swordfellen and pounded his head,
No fight but it could be a trick and that did he dread;
He spoke not a word, for his teeth were all broken,
and he could not escape; Bartholomew had him broken,
And and taking his sword and thrusting it deep,
The fat demon fell down to his feet;
The blood flowed on the ground and Bartholomew growled,
The smell of cinimon and sugar was what could be found.
Bartholomew sheethed his sword, knowing what must be done,
There might be more, more demons such as this one.
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the the villa
Not a creature was stirring, not even Maria;
His sword was slung over his shoulder with care,
In hopes that the night would bring to despair;
Maria was nestled all snug in her bed,
While while her little red wings rose and fell over her head;
He touched her little head and pulled on his ring of gold,
For tonight was dead of winter, bitter watch tonight, cold.
When out in the courtyard there arose such a clatter,
He sprang to the window to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to his inquisitors eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
Whoever this demon was we was obesely sick.
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 porch! to the top of the wall!
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 house-top the coursers they flew,
Demons infesting the houses! Bartholomew knew.
And then, in a twinkling, he heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As he drew out his blade, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the demon came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of goods he had flung on his back,
And Bartholomew sprang, before he could attack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
Bartholomew was wise, he'd kill him and not tarry!
He pulled back his fist, his muscles tight as a bow,
And punched the beard of his chin, which was as white as the snow;
The first blow from his fist landed in his teeth,
then he wraped his arm around his neck just like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, with each blow like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a picture of indulgence,
Bartholomew would not let this abomination continue existance;
He took the hilt of swordfellen and pounded his head,
No fight but it could be a trick and that did he dread;
He spoke not a word, for his teeth were all broken,
and he could not escape; Bartholomew had him broken,
And and taking his sword and thrusting it deep,
The fat demon fell down to his feet;
The blood flowed on the ground and Bartholomew growled,
The smell of cinimon and sugar was what could be found.
Bartholomew sheethed his sword, knowing what must be done,
There might be more, more demons such as this one.
