An American Xmas In Florida.

Twas the night before Christmas,

and all through the house,

all the creatures were stirring,

even the mouse.

The socks were strewn with abandon, no care,

no one was coming, and no one was there.

The children were yelling and jumping on their beds,

their only visions were the video games in their heads.

Mom in her house dress and I in Christmas wrap,

kids scrambled brains, no chance of a nap.,

when out in the yard we heard someone patter,

we thought it was burglars and were afraid to see what was the matter.

We grabbed our cell phones, then heard a crash,

we ran to the window, with glasses of mash.

The moon lit the yard, there wasn’t any snow,

It was 80 degrees and the sun was aglow,

Then, what to my old drunken eyes did appear

my neighbor, old Johnson, running very near.

He ran and he ran, running very very fast,

I knew he was chasing my dogs at last.

More rapid than the dogs, his steps they came,

And he blew his whistle, and called them by name.

Now, dog one and dog two!

Now three and four!

Get away five, and I hope there’s no more!

Get out of my flowers, and over the wall!

Now get away, get away, get away all!

As pine needles that before hurricanes fly,

when they meet with an obstacle,

won’t move if you try.

As I looked out the window, then turned around,

My neighbor was still chasing my brown bassett hound.

He was dressed in battle gear, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all wrinkled, and his belt wouldn’t stay put.

A beaten up shotgun was slung over his back,

and he looked like a soldier, just back from Iraq.

His eyes were black; his frown was not merry,

His cheeks were flushed, his nose was red cherry.

His mouth was thin, drawn tight like a bow,

and his beard was as brown as three day old dough.

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

and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a thin face, and almost no belly,

he clearly had spent too much time with the telly.

He was thin and tall, and angry at himself,

and I was sad when I saw him, in spite of myself.

The glint in his eye, the turn of his head,

soon let me know I had something to dread.

He spoke not a word, but aimed that old rifle,

And pulled the trigger, as if just a trifle.

The gun didn’t go off, so I ran for my life.

He ran out of the yard, and I called for my wife.

He went into his house, to his kids gave a whistle,

And like that he was gone, while I picked out a thistle.

I heard him scream ‘ere he vanished from sight,

I’ll get them next time, but I won’t do it at night!