Please enjoy my twist on ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas or Account of a Visit from St.Nicholas', by Henry Livingston Jr. Pre-travel 'admin' tips will follow soon. Merry Christmas!
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through Heathrow,
Not a flight was stirring, not even a check-in row;
The bags not yet packed, mulled wine out on tap,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there,
to bring umbrella'd cocktails to drink, which we'd share.
The children were nestled all snug in their seats,
While visions of vaccinations and insurance, danced in their heads;
And mamma with her G&T, and I with another,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s night-cap,
When out on the runway, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the waiting lounge to see the pilot for a natter.
Away to the sunshine I flew like a flash,
Tore open the free nuts and threw up the sass.
The moon on the breast of the new flying plane
Gave the lustre of mid-day to me in the air,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St.Nick.
More rapid than eagles the Sam-Song* would come,
And he whistled and shouted and warned me the same.
“Now, Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen!
Be wary of dancing on beaches sans shoes,
You will gain many cuts and henceforth sore toes!
To the top of the palm trees! To the top of the world!
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 stratos-top the fliers we flew,
With the 747, the sleigh full of toys, and St.Nicholas too.
*Sam-Song is Thai rum. Cheap, sweet and guaranteed to result in double vision and in extreme cases, waking up on beaches totally sunburnt, in which case the drinker should then expect the dreaded existential hangover.
