THE WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS
John Isaacs | Dec 17, 2010 |
0 'Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a treaty was stirring, not even New START.
The speeches were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that some amendments soon would be there;
The Senators were nestled all snug in their rooms,
While smells of jet fuel danced in their heads.
When out on the plaza there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
