‘Twas a bumpy flight before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a passenger was stirring, not even a spouse.
The drinks were all spiked by the flight attendant with care,
In hopes that in Boston, we all soon would be there

The children were all screaming, wanting to be home in their beds,
While visions of Pokemon-Go danced in their heads.
And the grandma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my hoodie,
Had just settled in for our last flight, a gut-wrenching goodie.

When out on the wing, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I looked with alarm,
To see what it was, causing us such harm.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to Boston below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a ruby red sleigh, and eight tired reindeer.

With an old lost driver, so chubby and adorned like a hick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
Oh Comet! Oh Cupid! Oh Donner and Blitzen!
We landed on the wing, not atop a porch or wall!?
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the wing,
What sounded like the Angels, beginning to sing.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
In through the cock-pit door St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
Like an 18th century Appalachian trader, all covered in soot.
A bundle of sticks he had flung on his back,
Unexpected to be stranded, even he thought the flight was whack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
The plane jumped around in the air, soft like a bow,
And the passengers cried and whaled like a newly shot crow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
My eyes met his and noticed his little round belly,
The plane shook and lurched, bouncing my brain, like a bowlful of jelly!

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And re-filled all the boozy drinks, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside an old woman’s nose,
He calmed her fears, and the boozy drink rose.

He then sprang back to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew off the wing like the down of a thistle.
The plane, it righted, with no more of a peep,
The fear amongst the passengers was gone , though it’d been quite deep.

Just then I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Welcome Back to Boston, and to all a good-night!”