T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the land
Bad poets were busy with pencils in hand. (More)
Or cell phones or keyboards for those of that age,
By whatever medium they came to the stage.
Their ideas were strung on the mantle with care,
In hopes that an audience soon would be there.
“On Twitter! On Facebook! On blogs!” did they cry,
“On letters to editor” in great supply!
For who had yet mimicked that great Christmas classic,
With thoughts so profound, so inspired, so sarcastic?
The children were sleeping, the little mouse snored,
The parents were watching the TV, quite bored.
When lo on the roof, what sound should a-whirl?
T’was jolly St. Phlyphytyl, the famed Christmas Squirrel!
Down the chimney he scampered and into the kitchen,
What, you thought he brought presents? For pecans he’s itchin’!
He chittered and chattered and packed full his jowls,
Then scampered back up amidst parental howls.
Now fed, he did settle to tap out this rhyme,
“Happy Squirrelidays to all, and have a good time!”