A Visit from Pony Alice by Desert Sun

Word Count 757

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(Note: On Christmas morning in the year of 1872, Murdoch Lancer took up pen and paper to record events that had taken place over the past week. Scott claimed the rhythm of his father’s rhyme sounded suspiciously like the poem “A visit from St Nicholas, which was written by Clement Clarke Moore and first published 1823. If their “old man” had snatched his inspiration from another man’s work, son Johnny claimed it was nothing to fuss about. It wasn’t like Murdoch had stolen the other man’s words. Jelly Hoskins agreed. He even was so bold as to proclaim his boss’s poem to be much more realistic and believable than the one about some man flying around on Christmas Eve in a sleigh pulled by reindeer and going down chimneys to deliver presents. As for me, I’ll leave it to the reader to make such judgements. I merely put into printed form what was handwritten all those years ago so it could be shared on the Yahoo Lancer groups in 2012 and eventually be archived here.)

~ * ~ * ~

‘Twas the week before Christmas, when into my house
Stormed Pony Alice, who’ll never be quiet as a mouse;
She raced through the great room with nary a care,
To gaze at the fireplace and the stockings hung there;
Then it was off to her room to toss her bag on her bed,
While visions of the ‘morrow loped through her head.
She unpacked her nightgown and her red nightcap
And gave them a fling. She wasn’t ready for a nap!
Once her clothes were stashed, she tore downstairs with a clatter
That would have had anyone wond’ring what was the matter.

For the next few days, all I saw was a flash
Of a girl on the go when I opened the sash.
On Honey’s back she rode daily with no wish for snow
To creep down from the mountains to the valley below.
Only once did she ask when Santa would appear
From the far, far north with his team of reindeer.
On Christmas Eve, she said he’d have to be quick
To get to everyone by dawn, this man called St. Nick.
Then the week had flown by and Christmas day came;
She handed out socks, calling each person by name.

“Here Jelly! Here T’resa! Miss Florida, who’s no Vixen!
And Scott! And Murdoch! And Johnny! But who’s Blitzen?
And why is there no sock for Bandit on the wall?
How can that be? He’s my very best friend of all!”
She found nothing for Honey, the horse who could fly
Far faster in her mind than any old bird in the sky.
She declared Santa must have spooked, so away he flew,
Because it appeared that he had forgotten her, too.
“Oh,” she said, “Surely he didn’t leave my sock up on the roof
To be trampled beneath each and every reindeer hoof?

She proceeded to look high and to look low and all around;
Then with an earsplitting shout of glee, up she did bound,
For there on the hearth, nearly under her foot
Lay a red and white sock all covered with soot.
She jumped up and down, and forward and back;
Then off to her room, her sock she did pack,
Before joining the family as they all made merry.
All were so happy, each one’s cheek as red as a cherry,
As packages were opened, saving each pretty bow,
And not a one complained of the absence of snow.

Smiles spread wider to reveal white teeth
When Alice started giggling and knocked down a wreath
Over Jellifer Hoskins a holding onto his belly,
While it shook to and fro like a bowl full of jelly.
Later on, Scott donned a cap that must have belonged to an elf;
He couldn’t have been handsomer, if I do say so myself.
Johnny, being Johnny, promptly swiped that hat from Scott’s head,
Put it on, and took the gunfighter’s stance, anyone would dread.

Teresa said, “Oh, brother. That will never work,”
As she deftly reached out and gave the cap a jerk.
The cap went a flying right into Miss Florida’s nose;
She gave it a flick and up to the rafters it rose
And caused such a commotion that I let out a shrill whistle
That sounded like the squall of a child stuck by a thistle.
Then I lifted my voice and shouted to everyone in sight,
“Merry Christmas to all and to all a good-night!”

End
December 25, 2012

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