[I'm preparing for a new meme that I will join in January... today's prompt is W... and this is whimsical, wacky, and wild... which is what a W should be.]
'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the house
All the creatures were stirring, oh look, there’s a mouse;
Odd socks were hung by the dryer with care,
In hopes that their matches soon would be there;
The dogs were all nestled so snug in my bed,
While visions of muscle aches danced in my head;
My cat on his pillow, also known as my lap,
Had just settled down for a long writer's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the deck I flew like a flash,
Ran into the door and my head got a bash.
The moon on the neighboring trailer, white as snow
Gave the glow of mid-day to the objects below,
When, what to my wonky one eye did appear,
But a miniature truck, and eight tiny deer,
With a little old guy, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Nit Pick.
More rapid than beagles those deer they came,
As he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Bubba! now, Jim~Bob! John~Boy and Bocephus!
On, Cleavon! on Elrod! on, Buster and Demetrius!
To the top of the deck! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
Like Moon Pie wrappers that in the hurricanes fly,
Those deer didn't pause but went straight to the sky,
So up to the house-top the deer they flew,
With a truck full of socks, and a crazy guy too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I rubbed my sore head, and was turning around,
Down the rain pipe he slid then took a leap and a bound.
He was dressed in his beachwear, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all dirty with sand and beach soot;
A bundle of socks he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a surfer just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his pupils how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His crooked little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as beach snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it just circled like a crazy weed wreath;
He had a broad face and a huge beer belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowl of grape jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a funny stoned elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He matched all my stocks; then turned with a jerk,
And sticking his finger up inside his nose,
He gave me a nod, and up the rain pipe he rose;
He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
"Match them yourself next time, and match them just right."