Twas the Night Before Christmas, Alone on My Convertible Sofa Bed

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
Except me on my convertible sofa feeling like a louse,
Banned there for the night by my wife upstairs.
We had grown apart through the years,
I was a jerk and had caused too many tears.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
and I doubted his existence more than even I could bear.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief', upstairs in tears
and I rethinking my life as I wear my warm cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
But sleeping alone on Christmas is only for a sap,
even if the convertible sofa bed is comfy as a lap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the convertible sofa 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,
And I wished my wife and I together could see such a glow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
I ran up the stairs and turned the lights on with a flick,
Gently woke my wife and told her to come quick, it was not a game.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
My wife and I flew down the stairs,
She was still angry, why does life have to have so many layers?
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
My wife and I were on the ground,
Hiding behind the convertible sofa, not making a sound,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
Such joy I had not seen in so long
Could I have that in my life, feel like I belong?
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
My wife kindly bumped my shoulder in reproof,
But when I looked at her, she was grinning like a goof.
My heart filled with love and grew as I looked at her face,
And knew her's was a soul was full of grace.
A wink of Santa's eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
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, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
Then I took my wife's hand, told her how sorry I felt,
That I was lucky to have the life I was dealt.
She apologized too, as she took my hand
I felt like a man, and no longer banned.
Now lying here together, loving sleepy heads
Leaving behind the convertible sofa bed.