23rd of December 2012 Author: Ava Jackuard
Not a player was stirring, not even the caller;
The Bingo cards were placed on the table with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would make them a winner if he dare;
The while families were nestled all snug in their beds,
While you had visions of bingo balls dancing in your head;
And mamma with her favorite bingo dauber, and you with your lucky bingo charm,
Had just settled in for a long winter's bingo session,
When out on the bingo hall there arose such a clatter,
You sprang from the table to see what was the matter.
Away to the window all players flew like a flash,
Tore open the double doors and unlocked the latch.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the thrill of mid-day bingo below,
When, what to your wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
Everyone knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
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 town! To the top of the hall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
So up to the bingo club the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of bingo jackpots, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, everyone heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As you drew in your head, and was turning around,
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 bingo cash 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!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of tumbling bingo balls.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And you laughed when you saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave you to know there was nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the bingo cards into winners; 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 you heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good Bingo night."
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