Poem by Sylvia Mattingly
This the night before Christmas and my house is a mess. Full of presents and Christmas fluff and dust, more or less. My socks are flung over the chair back with care in hopes that through pity, I’ll get a new pair.
I’m eventually nested all snug in my bed, After many a hot flash and my face looking red. With one fan beside me, and one fan up high, The flashes are subsiding and I know sleep is nigh.
But no, not to be, another to tame, And I cuss and I fume as I call it by name . . . Now hot flash, now heatwave, now hell’s breath of fire, Be gone with your torture I have got to retire!
I must get some winks, so when Santa Claus shows, I’ll be fast asleep and having no woes. Oh, who am I kidding, he’ll never get in Cause I’ve capped off the chimney and there’s insulation within.
The door’s dead bolted and chained . . . I’ll undo all locks . . . If I hope for that chance at a new pair of socks. And maybe some peppermint and a nice box of tea, Just the simple things in life are all that I need.
Oh Santy Claus come, I’ll be waiting for you. For you and your reindeer to do what you do. Be careful out front and watch out for the TARC, and remember that here, you must parallel park.
Your reindeer should be quite safe from the crowd, Cause in the heart of the city, no hunting’s allowed. They can paw at the pavement and snort with full glee, While you’re in my house leaving presents for me.
I’ll leave out some cookies and coffee and such, So just take your time, no need to rush. Sit down in my rocker and get some good rest Take a slow look around and just be my guest.
I don’t have a lot as you can certainly see But in the eyes of a poor man I’m as rich as can be. And in my own heart, I’m richer than most Because I have all I need and I truly can boast.
Maybe the stuff you were gonna leave here, Should bring some poor family a whole bunch of cheer, Take them a goose and some wine and warm bread And maybe a nice handmade quilt for their bed.
Leave them these things because I’m sure they’ve been good Don’t leave any switches or coal chunks or wood, And all that I ask as you leave my front door is that you take all these hot flashes and bring me no more!!
And other than that there just one small request It’s that old pair of socks on the chair, I’ll be blessed Please leave me some new ones without any wear See I don’t ask for much, just comfort and care.
Cause that’s what Christmas is really about . . . It’s not all the bling or the holiday shout, It’s about giving to others and looking around At the many great treasures in life to be found.
Our friends and our family, our life and our health Are just a few fine examples in our passel of wealth. Now Santy, there’s just one more thing you can do . . . Next year bring a Ford Mustang . . . in the color of blue!!!
“With many thanks to my inspirations, Clement C. Moore and Dr. Seuss.” Sylvia Mattingly
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