Not So Christmas Poem
By Cait Collins
Twas the week before Christmas
And the church ladies came
Christmas cheer to prepare
For the elderly and shut-ins
We all hold dear.
I pulled into the parking lot,
My car loaded down
With lotions, tissues, books and bags.
I opened the door, my sisters I greeted
When the air was rent by a shrill sounding whistle.
Ross, you see,
Gave his wife the church key
But the alarm code was missing
And thus we listened to the offending whistle.
When what to our panicked eyes did appear
But a green sedan and a kindly elf.
“Brother Glen, Brother Glen,
Can you help us out?
Our 80 year old minister threw open the car door
And sprinted inside to shut off the loud cry.
The telephone rang, most likely the alarm company,
Calling to check on the code he cleared.
Amarillo’s Finest did not appear
So we flipped on the lights
Opened our packs and unloaded the stash.
The ladies went straight to their work,
Loaded the bags, and cleaned up the trash.
And with a sigh of relief we headed out.
Glen met us as we came down the hall.
Smiles and hugs he had for us all.
His arms around me and shaking his head,
He held me closer and lovingly said,
“Of you Brown girls I’ll never be shed.
At least I’ll not have to go post your bail.
You’re free to go home and not go to jail.”
We laughed and waved and went on our way,
Our Christmas errands to finish that day.
Please forgive this poor verse.
However versions one, two, and three
Were really much worse.
I’m not a poet,
Of that I don’t lie.
The point of this Outtake is
At least I tried.
My apologies to Clement Clarke Moore for taking liberties with Twas the Night Before Christmas… I hope you and yours have enjoyed a great holiday. I wish you a very happy 2013.