Twas the Night before Christmas

 

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that Santa for Wizards would turn up there.

 

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of muggles danced in their heads.

And Hermione waving her wand, an eye in her lap,

Had just settled her brain for a long winter’s nap.

 

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

Ron sprang from his chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the window Ron flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

 

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to Ron’s wondering eyes should appear,

But a Drunk Harry Potter, with eight tins of strong beer.

 

With a little can opener, so lively and quick,

Ron knew in a moment Harry must be feeling quite sick.

Then into the night a voice suddenly came,

And it whistled, and shouted, and called Ron by his name!

 

“You’re my best mate Ron you cute little Vixen!

I’ve had a great doner kebab at a party in Blitzen!

but I’ve been sick on the porch! and the top of the wall!

but must dash away! Dash away! because I might be sick in your hall”

 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

So up on the house-top Ron he just knew,

With a sleigh full of Toys, was Hagrid drinking Homebrew.

 

And then, in a twinkling, Ron heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As Ron shook his head, and then turned around,

Down the chimney fell Hagrid with a terrible sound

 

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bottle of gin he had tied on his back,

And he looked like a madman, about to attack.

 

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how scary!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose rather hairy!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

 

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like Banshees in the heath.

He had a broad manic face, was incredibly smelly,

And he shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

 

He was grumpy and plump, spitting bits of food on a shelf,

And Ron cringed when he saw him, in spite of himself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave Ron to know he better watch what he said.

 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

Giving a nod, out the window he then chose!

 

He sprang to his sleigh, and to Harry Potter gave a whistle,

And away they both flew like the down of a thistle.

But Ron heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

“Here Harry I know of this bar that is open all night!”
.

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7 thoughts on “Twas the Night before Christmas

  1. Ah, a Christmas classic. For what is Christmas without Harry Potter…no wait…I meant Turkey. What is Christmas without turkey.

    Hope you have a wonderful Christmas Mr Z and a wonderful New Year!

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    1. Merry Christmas Miss Lily and Master Meglos I hope you both have a great time. Tomorrow is quiet here but then on Boxing Day there are 14 of us so I will be away with the fairies by early afternoon as I hide in the loo refusing to come out. xx

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      1. Hello Mr Z, hope that you had a wonderful Christmas! If you’ve eaten and drank half as much as I did on Christmas day then the loo would have become your best friend by Boxing day. Wishing you a fantastically eccentric and successful New Year and can’t wait to read all about your exhibition. ❤

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      2. AH yes I am not about much am I the exhibition went well and i sold about 18 out 0f 30 works of art. Partly because I sell stuff very cheap, I get annoyed by artists ripping off the masses when art should be for the masses.

        I did go down with man flu and am on the mend so I can blame my lack of anything in cyberspace on that. Be good and take care xxx

        And say hello to Master Meglos . . . I bet that Donald Trump is some sort of cunning plan of his as part of taking over the world.

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      3. Oh well done Mr Z! That’s wonderful news! And I agree with you about the masses being ripped off. But whilst there are people willing to pay thousands for art, the prices will remain high. On Tuesday I bought a beautiful moon based John Lewis painting and it only cost me 99p from the local charity shop.
        So any more plans to showcase your work? And when are we gonna see pics of the exhibition?

        My bro-in-law is down with Man-Flu. He’s all but written out his last will and testament. Hope you feel much better soon Mr Z. The sulky one says “hello” back. He’s currently at home with a virus.
        Take care Mr Z and wishing you well. xxx

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      4. I will try and get some pics up for you to see Miss Lily. I do love a good charity shop I think half my clothes are from them now. In fact I find if you are a regular the stuff you can get from them is better than most of the main stream shops. And because muck has a habit of attacking me as I pass it, it no longer matters quite the same as I think OH NO my £1..49p designer shirt is ruined. My wife does sometimes query some of my purchases but I always say they were a bargain and they always are even if I dont need a japanese abacus or a blue glass swan sugar bowl .

        xxx

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      5. Thank you Mr Z.
        I know people who will not even think to enter a charity shop, but I love em.
        I use to frequent a particular store that sold original 70s clothes. I still have a wardrobe full of patterned, wide collared 70s shirts which I can’t bear to part with and I’ve a cupboard full of obscure trinkets and surreal vinyl.
        One man’s muck is another woman’s reason to horde.

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