The Last 'Twas

THE NIGHT AFTER CHRISTMAS

by Arnold Krueger

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'Twas the night after Christmas and all through the area

Not a creature was stirring, not even the terrier.

The toys were all scattered in great disarray

Right where the kids left them, never put things away.

To I in my P.J.'s and my wife in her gown

The bed felt so good as we both settled down.

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Then down in the playroom there arose such a din

That I sprang from my bed, and on the chair cracked my shin.

My wife followed me out and we ran down the stair

And into the playroom. What a sight we saw there!

The toy soldiers had gone crazy and started a war.

They had even dug foxholes into the floor.

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I dodged a stray missile and then, won't you know,

The remote-controlled tank ran right over my toe!

I let out a yell and jumped straight in the air

While my poor frightened wife hid behind the big chair.

A model B-52 bomber circled the room

Its jet engines screaming of impending doom.

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It unleased its deadly cargo upon the fierce battle

And the explosion that followed....Why it made the neighborhood rattle!

I had to do something and I had to do it fast.

If there were another air strike our house wouldn't last.

The place was a mess! All strewn with rubble.

Who would have imagined that toys could cause so much trouble.

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Then I spied the kids' Christmas list and saw what did this trick

They hadn't sent it to Santa! No! They addressed it to Old Nick

Alas and alack! This wasn't my day.

On top of all else, now I've the devil to pay.

But what could I do! I was gripped by this terror!

Then down near the bottom I saw the spelling error.

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It was a long shot, but it was my only hope.

If this didn't work I'd look like a dope.

I jumped on the Air Dyne and peddled a good pace

And gradually everything returned to its place.

I breathed a sigh of relief and said, Thanks, to the tyke

Who had mistakenly written, Bring Dad an exorcize bike.