The Night Before Christmas (with appologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

‘Twas the night before Christmas (or the holidays if Christmas is not your thing),
When all through the firm,
Not a creature was stirring, not even Paul Voorn.

The files were stored in the file room with care,
The desks were all tidy, each had a pushed in chair.

The staff were nestled all safe in their homes (except for those who still have no power),
Enjoying their families and singing some songs.

When out on the highway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk (’cause I’m still here?) to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the blinds & peered out, ready to dash.

When what to my wandering eyes, should appear?
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little ol driver so lively and quick,
He was returning that sleigh, the Court Ordered back last week.

More rapid than eagles, his curses they came,
As he whistled and shouted and called me bad names.

I tried to explain we’re just doing our job,
If payments had been made, the sleigh still would be up.

He wiggled his nose & a new sleigh appeared,
Christmas was saved and Contempt of Court was no longer near!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
Happy to Christmas to all and with Andriessen do not fight!

Inga B. Andriessen JD (clearly not a poet)