Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The medals were hung por the prop with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The fanpoppers nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of doces canes danced in their heads.
Debs in her Santa hat and Spotty in her cap,
had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the United Kingdom there arose such a clatter,
Hazel sprang from the cama to see what was the matter.
Away to the window Hazel flew like a flash,
tore open the message and threw up the sash.

When what to Hazel 's wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature gôndola , and eight tiny reindeer,
with a little old driver so lively and quick,
Hazel knew in a moment, it must be St. Nick.



mais rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them por name.
Now kinfewrench! Now Cinders! Now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet, on Cupid, on Donder and Blitzen!

To the topo, início of the lamp, to the topo, início of the wall,
now dash away, dash away, dash away all!
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle mount to the sky.

So, up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
with a gôndola full of contributions and St. Nicholas, too.
And then in a twinkling Hazel heard on the roof,
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As Hazel drew back inside and was turning around,
down the prop St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in pele, peles from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes as soot.



A bundle of contributions he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddlar, just opening his pack.
His eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples, how merry,
his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as magenta as the snow.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the medals then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the prop he rose.
He sprang to his gondola, to his team gave a whistle,
and away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.



But Hazel heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, Merry natal to Hazel and to all a...GO OPEN SOME PRESENTS!!!
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There you have it! A small tribute to the awesomeness of oblix!!! Hope you liked this. I was really pooped on what to do. I don't have any photoshop etc, so I did the pictures on paint. With that, I thought it wasn't enough, so I tried thinking of poems to write. However, I'm not really gifted that way, so I owe the cleverness of the twisted carol to link. That's all I can really say, so Merry natal obby!