With apologies to C. C. Moore
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring except maybe a mouse
The trowels were downed, lime putty tucked away
And that high exterior ground level left to another day
Mama in her thermals and me in my robe
Were shivering in bed due to the draughty windows
When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter
I crawled out of bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window I stumbled and tripped
On some temporary wiring I’d promised to clip.
The moon on the breast of the material pile below
Reminded me of how far we still had to go
With nothing else to be seen I went downstairs instead
Forgetting the low beam and banging my head
As I crossed the hallway and entered the lounge
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
“That flue needs a new liner” he said with a grin
“It’s rusted in places and terribly thin”
I smiled at him weakly and I tried to explain
The cost of HETAS installers would ruin me again
But he spoke no other word and went straight to his work
Filled all the stockings and turned with a jerk
And laying a finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod up the chimney he rose
He sprang to his sleigh and to his team gave a hoot
Dislodging loose tiles and damaging gutters to boot
But I heard him exclaim as from my view he diminished
“There’s so much potential - it’ll be lovely when it’s finished!”
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring except maybe a mouse
The trowels were downed, lime putty tucked away
And that high exterior ground level left to another day
Mama in her thermals and me in my robe
Were shivering in bed due to the draughty windows
When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter
I crawled out of bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window I stumbled and tripped
On some temporary wiring I’d promised to clip.
The moon on the breast of the material pile below
Reminded me of how far we still had to go
With nothing else to be seen I went downstairs instead
Forgetting the low beam and banging my head
As I crossed the hallway and entered the lounge
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
“That flue needs a new liner” he said with a grin
“It’s rusted in places and terribly thin”
I smiled at him weakly and I tried to explain
The cost of HETAS installers would ruin me again
But he spoke no other word and went straight to his work
Filled all the stockings and turned with a jerk
And laying a finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod up the chimney he rose
He sprang to his sleigh and to his team gave a hoot
Dislodging loose tiles and damaging gutters to boot
But I heard him exclaim as from my view he diminished
“There’s so much potential - it’ll be lovely when it’s finished!”
