Posted by: Sandpiper
Christmas poem about current writers - 12/19/05 04:10 AM
Hope you all enjoy this. Didn't know where else to post it. Got it from a Romantic Times magazine a few years ago. The names of the women are romance writers. I'm sure you know many of them. A little different take on the poem, but I think it's cute.
THE DAY BEFORE CHIRSTMAS
BY DAMITA LEWIS (THE BOOK SHELF IN PARIS, ILL.)
'Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the store
many readers were bustling
in and out of the door.
The displays were looked over by shoppers with care,
in hopes a new Henley title was there.
The children were happy all snug in their keds,
While visions of Pocahontas danced in their heads;
Megan by the register, a book in her lap,
had just settled down with some new Christmas wrap.
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew in a sec,
Peered through the display and said,
"Hey, what the heck?"
The glare from a headlight on the new-fallen snow,
gave a step-back cover view for all to behold;
When what to my wondering eyes could be seen,
But eight famous authors in a long limousine.
With a little ol' driver so lively with talk,
I knew in a moment it must be Ms. Falk.
More rapid than eagles the authors they came,
and she whistled and shouted, introduced them by name;
"Now Bobbi, now Arnette! Now Judy and Kat,
On Nora, on Bertrice, on Heather and Pat."
From the front of the store to the top of the mall,
Now sashay, sashay, sashay away all!"
The Romantics steppd out urging shoppers to buy,
and into THE BOOK SHELF the authors did fly.
With a sleighful of boys and Ms. Falk, too
and off of the shelves, the books, they just flew.
Then in a twinkling echoing up to the roof,
the clapping and squealing from what looked like a goof!
As I nodded my head, and was turning around,
in came the Bartlings making quite a loud sound.
They were dressed in fur from their heads to their feet,
and they smiled and kissed all of the ladies, so sweet.
A bundle of books they had flung on their backs, and they looked like big heroes when opening their sacks.
Their eyes how they twinkled, their dimples how merry?
Their muscles were like iron, how many could they carry?
Their kissable mouths were drawn up like bows,
and their hair, long and blond, oh how it flows.
The stem of a rose they held tight in their teeth,
and the women encircled their waists like a wreath.
Each had a strong forearm, and a rippled, flat belly.
When they looked in my eyes, my knees turned to jelly.
They were handsome and cute, a right hunk of an elf,
and I blushed when I kissed them, in spite of myself.
A wink of their eyes and a twist of their heads, Made me wish it was time to retire to bed.
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
and filled all my orders, and readers went berserk!
Then laying a finger aside of her nose,
Kathryn gave a nod and from the chair she arose;
she sprang to her limo, to the authors gave a whistle,
and away they all flew with champagne in a crystal;
But I heard them exclaim as they drove out of sight,
"MERRY READING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!"
THE DAY BEFORE CHIRSTMAS
BY DAMITA LEWIS (THE BOOK SHELF IN PARIS, ILL.)
'Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the store
many readers were bustling
in and out of the door.
The displays were looked over by shoppers with care,
in hopes a new Henley title was there.
The children were happy all snug in their keds,
While visions of Pocahontas danced in their heads;
Megan by the register, a book in her lap,
had just settled down with some new Christmas wrap.
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew in a sec,
Peered through the display and said,
"Hey, what the heck?"
The glare from a headlight on the new-fallen snow,
gave a step-back cover view for all to behold;
When what to my wondering eyes could be seen,
But eight famous authors in a long limousine.
With a little ol' driver so lively with talk,
I knew in a moment it must be Ms. Falk.
More rapid than eagles the authors they came,
and she whistled and shouted, introduced them by name;
"Now Bobbi, now Arnette! Now Judy and Kat,
On Nora, on Bertrice, on Heather and Pat."
From the front of the store to the top of the mall,
Now sashay, sashay, sashay away all!"
The Romantics steppd out urging shoppers to buy,
and into THE BOOK SHELF the authors did fly.
With a sleighful of boys and Ms. Falk, too
and off of the shelves, the books, they just flew.
Then in a twinkling echoing up to the roof,
the clapping and squealing from what looked like a goof!
As I nodded my head, and was turning around,
in came the Bartlings making quite a loud sound.
They were dressed in fur from their heads to their feet,
and they smiled and kissed all of the ladies, so sweet.
A bundle of books they had flung on their backs, and they looked like big heroes when opening their sacks.
Their eyes how they twinkled, their dimples how merry?
Their muscles were like iron, how many could they carry?
Their kissable mouths were drawn up like bows,
and their hair, long and blond, oh how it flows.
The stem of a rose they held tight in their teeth,
and the women encircled their waists like a wreath.
Each had a strong forearm, and a rippled, flat belly.
When they looked in my eyes, my knees turned to jelly.
They were handsome and cute, a right hunk of an elf,
and I blushed when I kissed them, in spite of myself.
A wink of their eyes and a twist of their heads, Made me wish it was time to retire to bed.
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
and filled all my orders, and readers went berserk!
Then laying a finger aside of her nose,
Kathryn gave a nod and from the chair she arose;
she sprang to her limo, to the authors gave a whistle,
and away they all flew with champagne in a crystal;
But I heard them exclaim as they drove out of sight,
"MERRY READING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!"