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December 25, 2013 / Courtney / Creativity

The Night Before Christmas, Oklahoma Style

We had an earthquake the night before Christmas, which of course is great cause for writing a poem based on an old favorite. : )

‘TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS IN OKLAHOMA*

by Courtney Cantrell

with thanks (and possibly apologies) to Clement C. Moore

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my home
Dishes rattled and shook like when buffalo roam!
The stockings, they fell from the chimney and stair,
But it wasn’t St. Nicholas — he wasn’t yet there.

christmasdeco2013Mamma in her kerchief and I in my cap
Came gasping awake from our long winter’s nap.
The children plopped, startled, right out of their beds.
They bumped every elbow and all their wee heads.

Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
The moon set off sparkles on inch-thick ice
And then I saw something that just wasn’t nice.

It made my eyes wonder, it made my brow frown:
Inflatable Santa had toppled right down.
I guessed that tonight there would be no St. Nick,
But my wife hurried over and hugged me right quick.

“Oh honey,” she said, “don’t make no mistake.
We’re gonna have Christmas in spite of that ‘quake!
Now dash and now dance, and now get to fixin’.
We’ll clean up the mess with some fast cleaning blitzin’!”

So that’s what we did — you’d think we could fly.
Our Christmas was back ‘fore the sun gained the sky.

Our children’s eyes twinkled! Their dimples were merry!
Our Christmas was saved! That ‘quake? Not so hairy!
For bestest of all, we still had each other,
Momma and Daddy and sisters and brothers.

I’d panicked when thinking we’d have no jolly elf,
And now I just laughed in spite of myself.
Sure, snowman Frosty had just lost his head,
But an earthquake should give me nothing to dread.

I spoke not a word as the kids went work
Emptying their stockings, no present to shirk.
I first wiped my eyes and then blew my nose.
Tearful prayers of thanksgiving to heaven arose.

With my wife in my arms — kids played on the floor —
I knew that no harm could come through my door.
Forget that dumb ‘quake! Family’s a beautiful sight.
So, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

___________________

I took complete poetic license with the extent of the damage we suffered, which amounted to none. ; )

MERRY CHRISTMAS, DEAR INKLINGS! Hope it’s been a great one.

christmastree2013edited

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Front cover of a novel. Title and author's name in white font with serifs, all CAPS. Title: The Priestess Murders. Author: Courtney Cantrell. The image depicts a gnarled tree reaching from the bottom left corner up the left side and across the top half of the image. The tree is silhouetted against a star-spangled, dark blue night sky. In the background (lower third of image) are leafy, densely growing trees dimly lit by what might be moonlight (light source not shown). In the center of the image is a honeybee viewed from above. The bee glows a pale gold and is surrounded by a nimbus if pale gold light. The bee also exudes rays of pale gold light reaching up and down and left and right. A gash is torn in the bee's thorax, and red blood trickles from the wound. Novel published October 2025.

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Courtney Cantrell: filthy chaos gremlin with vorpal unicorn morphing powers. She writes fantasy, sci-fi, and weird -- reads many, many books -- and questions ALL the things. Made of coffee, chocolate, and glitter glue.

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