A Christmas poem from my late mother.

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Sorry, but not sorry!
True & Honest Fan
Sep 25, 2014
Back in the early days of the web, I typed up a poem my mom made back in her high school days in the good ol' 1950's. She was quite a good writer on her own right, and I thought it wouldn't hurt to share her poem to the masses on Usenet. It's pretty easy to Google it if you know the title, but here you go...

by Joanne Mary Kurtzman

'Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the pad,
Not a teener was boppin'
Not even the cats.

The shopping bags hung by the
Smoke wall with care,
In hopes that old money bags
Soon would be there!

The cats were all snoozing
All snug in their beds,
While visions of hi-fi's
Poluted their heads!

I in my ivy leagues and Ma in her tights
Had just shagged out for a cool winter night!
When out from the patio there arose such a contardy
That it sounded like one of those hot teenage parties!

I fell out of bed
And I called for the servant
To press the red button
That drew open the curtain!

The moon on the breast of
The new fallen jazz,
Gave a luster of mid-day
To objects such as:

The space ship, the terrace,
Our outdoor movie -
The wet of the swimming pool!
It all looked real groovy!

And to my surprise in the midst of it all
Stood a jolly young man not quite six feet tall.
He had a guitar and he sang through his beard:
"Now Dasher, now Prancer, come dance over here!"

His mission completed, and he sang as he left -
(Forgive me for saying, but it made me quite deaf!)
With his last note he added as he shagged out of sight:
"Merry Christmas to all! - I'm on TV tonight!"