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‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’
the town,
Not a creature was stirring, all was shut down.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with
care,
In hopes that St. Fauci would send up a flare.
The children were nestled all snug in their masks,
While visions of freedom were their only task.
And Mama in her PJs, and I in my sweats,
Had just settled our nerves for a long winter’s
threat.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
The Covid on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the impression of doom, when we all
wanted glow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should
appear,
But a bureaucrat from Washington, but no
reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and full,
I knew in a moment, this has to be bull.
More rapid than eagles he shouted I’m now wiser,
Now! Delta now! Omicron now! and Moderna
and Pfizer.
On! J&J on! Vitamin C and some zinc,
We’re circling the world with the ease of a blink.
As sniffles and chills, and oh those coughs,
I should have been vaxed is all I thought.
So up to the house-top the bureaucrats they flew,
With a sleigh full of money, and St. Fauci too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The science is dwindling, I need real proof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Fauci came with a bound.
He was dressed in rhetoric, from his head
to his toes,
And his clothes were just perfect and his eyes
they did glow.
A bundle of needles was flung on his back,
And he look’d like a peddler just opening
his pack.
His smile, how cute, his smirk how it shows
That he’s making it up, as along he goes.
His old man nose, and oh all those wrinkles,
This must be a dream, I expected more twinkles.
He had a big head, and a short little body,
That moved with grace, not too shoddy.
He was fit and smart, a right jolly little elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of the truth,
Soon gave me to know that I needed no proof.
He spoke too many words, but continued
his work,
And filled needles with vaxes, despite that
one jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his SUV, to his team he gave a shout,
We’re controlling this country, to that there’s no
doubt.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good fright.
My apologies to Clement Clark Moore, who originally wrote the poem ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas in 1823. Merry Christmas to all.
– Mike Barnhardt