A Christmas Poem

Discussion in 'Entertainment' started by Redfish-Joe, Dec 15, 2008.

  1. Redfish-Joe

    Redfish-Joe Senior Member

    2,307
    48
    10
    'Twas the night before Christmas, And not until Spring
    Would a motor be running, not even a Wing.
    The bikes are all sleeping, they're covered and warm,
    Batteries are tended, nylon covers their form.
    My Bros were all nestled down snug in their beds,
    While visions of new chrome danced in their heads.
    And I in my do-rag, bike jacket and boots
    Out shoveling snow, and dreaming of scoots.
    Then from the horizon there came such a clatter
    My shovel I dropped, what could be the matter?
    Away up the hill, I slogged through the snow
    Looked up at the sky; where'd all that noise go?
    Then a throb from the heavens, like straight pipes so hearty
    Gave Summers' good thoughts, a loud bikers' party.
    When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
    But a Hog Ultra Classic, Red trailer in rear!
    With a little old rider, so lively and quick,
    I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
    More rapid than a V-Rod his Ultra came on,
    And he whistled, and shouted, and sang out this song;
    "Now, Springer! Now, Dyna! On Ultra and Softail!
    Now Vulcan! Now Injun! On Victory and Triumph!
    To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
    Now RIDE away! RIDE away! RIDE away all!"
    As small bikes that from the semis do fly,
    When they meet with the air blast, mount to the sky,
    So up to the house-top that Ultra it flew
    With a trailer of goodies, and ole' St. Nick too
    And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
    The rumble and thunder of pipes that gave proof.
    I ran in the house, boots thumping around,
    And in came St. Nick all bearded and round
    Dressed all in black leather, from do-rag to boot
    His chaps were all tarnished with road grime and soot;
    A T-bag of goodies he'd flung on his back
    And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack
    His shades -- how they twinkled! his do-rag how scary!
    With chains intertwined, through skulls that were cherry!
    His droll little mouth had done many a row,
    So the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
    The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
    The smoke had a strange smell; it gave him relief.
    He had a broad face and a large fat beer belly
    That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly
    He was tattooed and plump, a right jolly old rider,
    So I offered a cold brew, thought what could be righter?
    A wink of his eye as he downed that cold beer,
    Gave me to know I had nothing to fear
    He spoke not a word, but went straight to my ride
    And fixed it with Chrome, Horsepower and Pride
    And giving the peace sign with bikers' good cheer
    Strode off to his Ultra rumbling near
    He sprang on the saddle, his gloves on the bars
    A wheelie he threw; then off towards the stars
    I heard him exclaim, as my chest swelled with pride,
    "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD RIDE!"
     
  2. tlyoungb

    tlyoungb Junior Member

    440
    26
    0
    Now that is different. :rofl
     
  3. Redfish-Joe

    Redfish-Joe Senior Member

    2,307
    48
    10
    One of my Sisters in the SCRC sent that to me. Thought I'd pass in on.

    Respects...Joe
     
  4. threesteps

    threesteps Junior Member

    479
    26
    1
    Good one!:D
     
  5. STEVE07

    STEVE07 Well-Known Member Staff Member Super Moderators

    4,034
    68
    43
    Read it to the others here at lunch. Good one:D
     
  6. M0sesJJN

    M0sesJJN Member

    60
    16
    0
    I think St. Nick'd be riding a Softail Heritage Classic in red and green paint if you ask me...

    What about Hannukah?

    Moe.
     
  7. drake

    drake Senior Member

    1,084
    46
    0
    Hey, that was a good one!!!