Here it is Boxing Day, Christmas is gone and it still is raining.
I wrote this up as a bit of satire on my present situation.
'Tis the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Silence has settled 'cept the slide of my mouse.
No stockings, no chimney, I don't care
I know that St. Nicholas will never be there.
My children are nestled all snug in their homes,
Where my grand kitties reign and constantly roam.
I have no 'kerchief and Dad lost his cap.
I sit here a pondering tap tap...tap tap.
Now out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I hobbled in pain.
I forgot...should have grabbed that darn old cane.
The moon reflects off the sodden ground,
While I try to fathom, "What IS that sound?"
When what do I see but two cats in a fight,
All teeth and claws, flying fur. What a sight!
Not Dasher nor Dancer! Not Pancer or Vixen!
Not Comet, nor Cupid, nor Donner, or Blitzen.
Unless they were named by some Christmasy mind,
Hissing and spitting their yowls combined.
Shaking my head, I leave the scene
To power down my computer screen.
I checked once more on the warring feline,
Everything seems normal, quiet and fine.
With one leap the tiger lands on the sill
Grinning at me through the glass as cats will.
A flick of his whisker and a twist of his head
Reminds me how I was headed to bed.
But I exclaim, before he dove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night."
