Twas the day before Christmas Break, when at the BOE
Not a person was stirring, everyone was feeling lazy.
The stockings were hung along the hallway with care,
In hopes that the man would soon be there;
When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Knocked over my coffee and turned over the trash.
When, what to my wondering eyes in a fog,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight ferocious bulldogs.
With a tall, slender driver, more lively than other men,
I knew in a moment, it was Dr. Mark Petersen!
Faster than cheetahs his bulldogs they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now O'NEILL! now, HUGHES! now, POWELL and STROUBLE! On, FALANA! on RHODES! on SWAIN and NEWTON!
To the middle of the Brickyard and over the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
So up over the wall, his bulldogs they ran,
With the sleigh full of supplies, and oh yes, with The Man.
As I ran across the street and crept to the gate,
I had to see what was up. I could hardly wait!
He was dressed in a red suit with a candy-striped tie.
He was really decked out, a quite spiffy-looking guy.
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 hair was highlighted with strands the color of snow.
He was a chummy old pal, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Mumbled to himself, and turned with a jerk.
He watered the grass, then drew the chalk lines
Then pronounced, "We will be the state champs next time!"
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all ran, faster than a missile.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Next time the Bulldogs will bounce back and put up a fight!"
Happy Holidays to you all!