BETTER LATE THAN NEVER:


Magical Mystery Yule

Twas the night before Christmas, but the spirit of Yule
Was not what it should be in olde Liverpool.
The stockings, all hung by the warm chimney grate,
Were still sadly empty. For Santa was late.

Yes, midnight had come and midnight had fled.
The children were lying awake in their beds,
Unable to sleep and beginning to fear
That Christmas was really not coming that year,

When off in the distance there came a strange noise
–Was Santa arriving at last with their toys?
Those surely weren’t sleigh bells they heard from afar,
It sounded like drums—and electric guitars.

Now up in the sky, as the music drew near,
A strange silhouette began to appear.
Could those be reindeer? It seemed that they must,,
But instead of a sleigh were they pulling a bus?

The reindeer drew closer, and yes, it was true:
Behind them a bus, all yellow and blue.
And out from the windows strange voices there came,
Which called out to each tiny reindeer by name:

“Now, Maxwell! Now, Martha! Now, Prudence and Pepper!
On, Sun King! On, Sadie! On, Jude and Loretta!”
The bus was soon landed. The slightest of pauses
Then out through the doors came four Santa Clauses!

But these weren’t like Santas the children had seen,
For under the white beards their beads could be seen,
And clothing that wasn’t just Santa Claus red,
But rainbows of dazzling color instead.

They all had long hair, some had curling moustaches,
And one of the four wore round little glasses.
They carried guitars, except for the one
Who staggered along with a full set of drums.

They spoke not a word, but as quick as a mouse
They carried their instruments into the house,
And, moving the Christmas tree out of their way,
They plugged in their amps and they started to play.

The room seemed to sparkle with magic and then
That sparkle grew brighter, then brighter again,
And exploded like fireworks, filling the air!
Then the stockings were filled there were gifts everywhere!

But the four couldn’t stay to admire the scene;
They sprang to their bus and were gone like a dream.
But their voices called out, as they vanished from sight,
“Merry Crimble to all!” and, “What a hard day’s night!”

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