North49th

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My very own "Twas the day before Christmas"

Twas the day before Christmas and all around work,
Not a creature was stirring, except for one jerk.
From speaking too loud on the phone with his spouse,
To surfing all day, clickity click went his mouse!

I in my boots, long johns and cap,
Put down my head to catch a quick nap.
My co-workers sleeping, slouched down in their chairs
In hopes that 2pm soon would be there.

When out of the boardroom there arose such a clatter,
Out strode the bossman to see what was the matter.
The snoring was deafening but his roar louder still,
"Sleeping on the job! All your hands in the till!"

The light of fluorescent bulbs did but show,
His anger smoldered, face lit from below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature twinkle to appease my deep fear!

That little old bossman a taskmaster may be,
But on this one day his face lit up with glee!
More rapid that eagles his executives came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer and Vixen!
On Comet! On Cupid! On Donner and Blizten!
To the second boardroom! Just down this hall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!
(what a coincidence with those names!)

As dry leaves that before the wild hurrican fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So on to the boardroom, his minions, they flew,
With folders full of paper and a veggie tray too.

And then in a twinkling I heard all around,
My co-workers stirring at the retreating sound.
Their eyes filled with sand, blinking from the bright light
Wipe away the dried slobber and strech to full height.

Back in came the bossman with fur head to foot,
His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. (ya, no idea why)
A bundle of envelopes were clenched under his arm,
If that was our bonus checks I could buy a new farm!

His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
He must have been drinking, his nose like a cherry!
His drool, it sat on his chin like a tear,
We sat staring at it with boatloads of fear.

The stump of a check he held tight in teeth,
His combover as usual, did look like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
His cackle would cause it to shake like old jelly.

I was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed at the mirror, in spite of myself!
Not at that moment, in the mirror I spied.
Excuse me for straying, that was an aside.

The bossman ignored the blatant lack of work,
We all looked so happy, except that one jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
A loogie went flying after three or four blows.

He sprang to his limo with his team close behind,
He left no bonus, it probably slipped his mind...
But I heard him exclaim, with a backward glance,
"Happy Christmas to all. Where are my pants?"