As Posted by The Last Real Marlboro Man

TwasWriter.jok

Subject: MWV: The Night Before Christmas
From: lutz@bellatlantic.net
Date: 1997/12/19

Newsgroups: misc.writing

'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the 'ville
The wit was subdued and
The flamers were still.

The scratching of pencil
On paper had ceased -
The clatter of typewriter keys
Had decreased

To a level of quiet
Not normally heard
While computer screen-savers
Blinked "do not disturb".

The Spirit of Christmas
Had entered unbidden
To find that true feelings
Remained mostly hidden

By pseudonyms, screen names
And false bravado -
The MW people seemed
Loathe to let go

And let Christmas be Christmas
All fuzzy and warm.
Allowing instead
Daily pressures to swarm

Until nothing is left
Of the feelings we had
As children - and then Pat
Remembered her dad.

The Spirit of Christmas then
Came flooding back
And reminded us all that
The spirit we lack

Has nothing to do with
Material things,
But with memories of Love
That the holidays bring.

But when memories fade
And we're feeling alone
We dare not forget that
We're making our own

Memories to be cherished
By those who love us -
Those budding young writers
who in us do trust.

As darkness descends
And Kate turns out the lights
And the Spirit of Christmas
Prepares to take flight

Grab on to her wings;
Don't let go, hold on tight.
Merry Christmas to all,
And to all a good night.

- Wayne (Ok, so I never claimed to be a poet.)