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‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except for Beetee’s mouse.
(And keyboard, too, you can’t type without that,
But a keyboard will never be eaten by a cat.)
The tributes were all resting up with their teams,
While visions of victory danced through their dreams.
And Spring with her scarf, and York with his cap,
Had just settled in for a quick little nap.
When out on the trail there arose such a clatter,
Beetee sprang from his chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew with a smirk,
And shut off his laptop (after saving his work.)
The northern lights on the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.
When Beetee’s bright eyes spotted not a normal fellow,
But sixteen Malamutes and a girl clad in yellow.
With a rainbow scarf and no silver spoon,
He knew in a moment it must be Breeze Moon.
So quickly upon him, the dogs they came,
And Breeze cried out, as she called them by name:
“Now Ramses, now Xerxes, now Caesar and Hannibal,
On Xander, on Constantine, Cyrus and Annabelle!
On to Safety, then Nome, then Victoria Falls,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”
The dogs would respond to her every word,
So they left before Breeze thought that she could be heard.
So on down the trail, the dogs they flew,
With a sled full of medicine, and Breeze, too.
So Beetee took off, as the wind started blowing,
Not really quite sure just where Breeze was going.
Then all of a sudden, the girl turned around,
And Beetee knew right then that he had been found.
She was dressed all in gold from her head to her toe,
All sprinkled just slightly with new-fallen snow.
Boxes of serum filled up the sled,
And Breeze turned to Beetee slowly and said:
“Hello, young man, it’s a pleasure to meet you,
But I’m afraid I can’t waste much time to greet you.
Please keep on writing this interesting poem,
I must carry this medicine along to Nome.”
Beetee said “Miss, it is truly exciting
To meet someone out of the story I’m writing.
But just as much as I know your very fate,
I know that those folks in Nome just cannot wait.”
Then Beetee gave her a package of bacon;
She knew her dogs’ noses had not been mistaken.
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Were Beetee’s last gifts as she packed up her sled.
Breeze spoke no more words as Beetee kept rhyming;
She got her team ready with excellent timing.
The dogs started barking, excited to go
And dash just like cheetahs across the night snow.
Breeze sprang to her sled, to her team gave a whistle,
And straight down the trail they shot like a missile.
But Beetee heard her yell, as she drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”