So I find myself at work today (s'ok, I volunteered) and found myself struck down, gibbering and foaming, by inspiration. So, in the spirit of the season, I present the following trifle. Happy Holidays all!
A Visit from St. Nikola
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Twas the night before Gogglemas, when all through the town
each contrivance and widget was firmly shut down.
The stockings were hung by the boiler with care
in hopes that St. Nikola soon would be there.
The minions were nestled all snug in their beds,
While galvanic dinguses danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my topper,
Had just settled down and uncorked the stopper
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my drink to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Unlatched the steel iris and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the snow-covered grass
Gave the whole place a luster like new-polished brass,
And what with my goggle-clad eyes did I see
But a dirigible with 8 Reindeer (Mark 3)
With a little old pilot so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nik
More rapid than eagles his engines they came
And he yanked on the whistle and called them by name:
“On Tesla! On Farraday! Stirling! Marconi!
On Kelvin! On Edison! Brunel! Galvani!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Now sail away, sail away, sail away all!”
As aetheric waves on a cavorite shell,
(As per published theory) do gently repel,
So up to the house-top the engines they flew,
With the ship full of gifts, and St. Nikola too.
And then, in a twinkling, I swore I did hear
The tapping and scraping of each landing gear.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nikola came with a bound.
He was dressed all in tweed, with a dignified frock,
Accented, it seemed, with the parts of a clock;
A satchel of tools he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His goggles, 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 finely curled ‘stache 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 kind face and a strange apparatus,
That caused me to dread, lest he soon point it at us.
He was chubby and plump, a right clever old gent,
And I knew science followed wherever he went;
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,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
He primed his device and did wrinkle his nose,
And twisting a knob, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his ship, and he tugged the steam whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he sailed through the clouds,
"Happy Gogglemas to all, go invent, make me proud!."
