A homeowner’s holiday verse
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the trailer
came the creaking and groaning of sure furnace failure.
Outside, the snow swirled, and I heard the wind roar,
as winter crept in through a gap by the door.
I was all nestled ‘neath six quilts on the bed,
while visions of power tools danced in my head.
An 18-volt drill, of the cordless variety
could go a long way to ease my anxiety.
What about lumber, or maybe a Shop-Vac?
Any chance that ol’ Santa stuffed those in his sack?
I puzzled, and puzzled and puzzled some more,
then I thought of something I hadn’t before.
St. Nick will have trouble getting into my pad,
that broken-down chimney could screw me up bad!
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
I nearly got stuck to the frost on the sash.
The porch light gleamed brightly on new fallen snow,
the place looked OK in the 40-watt glow.
It needed repairs and upgrades galore, but
Perhaps home improvement needn’t come from a store.
Now Black, I mean Decker,
Now Peerless and Pergo,
On Kohler, on Stanley,
On Lowe’s and Home Depot.
To the top of the porch,
to the top of the wall,
Sheetrock or plywood,
Cover it all.
And then, in a twinkling, a shingle ripped loose,
it nearly caught Santa upside his caboose.
He slid off the roof and plopped hard on the deck,
he laughed and he shrugged, and said, “what the heck.”
He was dressed all in fur, which was off in a flash,
then he dove for the hot tub, and made a big splash.
The bundle of stuff he brought in his bag
fell out in the snow like a great pile of schwag.
My eyes, how they twinkled, at the sight of the loot,
when I spied plumber’s putty, I let out a hoot.
He brought me a toilet, all shiny and white,
and a wrench to install it, all nice and tight.
“I give a gal tools when I want to amaze her,
so I brought you an auto-leveling laser,”
he said with a wink, and a twist of his head,
“unless you’d prefer a crock pot instead.”
He was chubby and pink, a right jolly old elf,
but I covered my eyes, in spite of myself.
Bare-naked Santa – I couldn’t go there,
as he sprang from the tub in the frigid night air.
I averted my gaze to a drill bit collection,
and admired my ratchet wrench socket selection.
The circular saw with its sharp carbide blade
told me my Christmas was made in the shade.
He dressed rather quickly, to his team gave a shout,
and took to the sky, refreshed for his route.
But I heard him exclaim, as his sled cleared the house,
“Wear safety glasses, don’t poke an eye out!”
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