Letterboxing Night Before Christmas
(with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)
by Wisconsin Hiker
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the park
Not a creature was stirring, not even a lark.
The boxes were hid by the shelter with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The boxers were nestled all snug in their coats,
While clues for new boxes appeared in their notes.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my hat,
Had just settled our butts for a long boxing chat.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bench to see what was the matter.
Away to the meadow I flew like a flash,
Tore through the thistles and got a good gash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than cooties his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Marvey! On, Stampeaze! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the rocks! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As boxers that tackle the cryptic clues sigh,
When they meet with an obstacle, never say die!
So along the faint path the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of stamps, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard to the east,
The prancing and pawing of each little beast.
As I checked the compass, and was turning around,
Down the footpath St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in camo, from his head to his feet,
And his clothes were all filthy with burrs, sticks and Deet.
A bundle of stamps he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a hiker, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like inkpads, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The end of a marker held tight in his teeth,
And the ink it encircled his palm like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
The good carving stuff and a twist of his blade,
Soon gave me to know he had come to our aid.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the boxes, then turned with a jerk.
Then after stamping his sig stamp into the book,
He went back down the trail, with a careful last look.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
If you're interested in the entire clue for this permanent box, you can find
it here:
http://letterboxing
Before_Christmas
Wisconsin Hiker
All material contained herewith
has been copyrighted
by Pinecone Productions
