This was written for the clean up crew that worked every Christmas Eve cleaning the plant after Dec. 24 production. Usually third shift spend a good portion of the 24th imbibing in spirits that remained with them when they came to work that night. Bus, the subject at the end of the poem is a heavy set Virginian with a drawl............. paste is Tomato paste........ caustic is a cleaner.

 

 

 

T' WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS AND ALL THROUGH THE PLANT,

EVERYBODY WENT HOME, EXCEPT THIRD SHIFT, "THEY CAN'T",

THEY’RE CLEANING AND SCRUBBING, MAKING EVERYTHING BRIGHT,

WHILE OUTSIDE IT IS SNOWING, MAKING EVERYTHING WHITE,

MANY HOSES ARE HUNG, ON THE HOSE RACKS WITH CARE,

IN HOPES THAT ST. NICHOLAS SOON WOULD BE THERE,

I'M NESTLED ALL SNUG, IN MY CHAIR, SO IT'S SAID,

WHILE THE WORDS OF A PUZZLE, DANCE IN MY HEAD,

KEN'S DOWN IN THE SHOP, TELLING TALES OF YEARS PAST,

MECHANICS ARE WONDERING, JUST HOW LONG THIS'LL LAST,

HAROLD'S TENDING HIS FLOCK, OUT ON THE FILLING FLOOR,

HE'S HAD A FEW NIGHTCAPS, DOESN'T NEED ANYMORE,

WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, THERE CAME SUCH A CLATTER,

BARRELS AMD BUCKETS AND DRUMS, WHAT'S THE MATTER,

MY PENCIL AND CROSSWORD, BOTH DROPPED TO MY LAP,

MY MOUTH FLEW WIDE OPEN, I FELT LIKE A SAP,

I SPRUNG FROM MY CHAIR AND THREW OPEN THE DOOR,

MY SHOES STEPPED IN CAUSTIC, I FELL TO THE FLOOR,

I RAN UP TO HAROLD, SAID, "HEY WHAT'S THE NOISE?"

HE SAID, "I DON'T KNOW, BUT IT MUST BE THE BOYS"

WE RAN IF YOU PLEASE, TO THE TOP OF THE STAIRS,

LOOKED HITHER AND YON, WE LOOKED EVERYWHERE,

WE ASKED MR. MACK IF HE'D HEARD ALL THE CLATTER,

HE SAID THAT HE HAD, WONDERED WHAT WAS THE MATTER,

I THOUGHT, AND I THOUGHT... THEN I SAID, WITH A PAUSE,

DO YOU THINK...COULD IT BE, IS IT...SANTA CLAUS,

THEN THE INSTANT I SAID IT, I SPIED WITH MY EYES,

THE CAUSE OF THE NOISE, WHAT A PLEASANT SURPRISE,

MIDST JUMBLED BUCKETS AND DRUMS, ALL SHINY AND BRIGHT'

WAS A JOLLY FAT FIGURE, ALL RED AND ALL WHITE,

HE LOOKED SO HELPLESS, LAYING THERE ON THE FLOOR,

DID MY EARS DECEIVE ME, I THINK THAT HE SWORE,

OUR VISION SOON CLEARED AND WITH VERY LITTLE HASTE,

THE FIGURE STOOD UP, IT'S BUS, COVERED WITH PASTE,

HE'D FALLEN IN GARBAGE AND HE WAS QUITE SMELLY,

HE GRUMBLED AND SWORE AND HE SHOOK JUST LIKE JELLY.

HIS FACE WAS ALL RED, LIKE HE'D STEPPED IN FROM THE NIGHT,

HIS MOUTH WAS ALL DRAWN AND HE WANTED TO FIGHT,

I HEARD HIM EXCLAIM AS HE TURNED DOWN THE HALL,

DON'T LAFF YOU'NS GUYS, T'WERN'T FUNNY A' TALL.

 used by permission
Copyright © Ron Bliss
All Rights Reserved 

      

 
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