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HOLIDAY POEM
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
AND ALL THRU THE HOUSE,
NOT A CREATURE WAS STIRING
WHOOPS, ONE LITTLE MOUSE,
WHO SNEAKED OUT OF BED
AND DOWN THE BANESTER SLID,
TO THE CLOSET BELOW
WHERE THE PRESENTS WERE HID,
A BOX AND A CHAIR
PUT THE PRESENTS WITHIN REACH,
AND ALLOWED HIM TO LOOK
AT THE CONTENTS OF EACH,
AS HE WAS CLIMBING ON THE SHELF
AND TURNING AROUND,
ALL THE BRIGHT COLORED BOXES
CAME DOWN WITH A BOUND,
THIS STORY NEEDS A MORAL
HERE'S ONE I PREFER,
ON THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
LITTLE MICE SHOULDEN'T STIR.
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Last Update 12/12/99
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