Twas the night before Christmas, when at my house
The maltese was barking because there was no mouse.
The stockings weren’t hung, because the house is in repair,
No hopes of seeing St Nicholas, makes me despair.

The child has grown and not in his bed,
And, has more than sugar-plums dancing in his head.
And me in my flannels, and in hand a nightcap,
Had settled on the couch with a pooch in my lap.

When out in the courtyard appeared a large dog,
The pooch barked loudly, which left me in a fog.
Away to the window she flew in one leap,
To yap and to growl and get a good peep.

The moon was shining above, with no Christmas snow
And the big, black dog was not aglow.
Yet in my haze and wonder, I thought Santa would appear,
But it was just the neighbors and nothing to fear.

With no sleigh in sight and only the dark
It was just another reason for the dog to bark.
So I quickly closed the blinds without any help,
In hopes that the dog would not yelp!"

There was no Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, nor Vixen!
No Comet! No, Cupid! No Donner nor Blitzen!
No Christmas cheer at the Khalupa house,
Just me and the dog, without the mouse.

And then, in a twinkling, or maybe four,
I heard pounding and ringing at the door.
As I leaped off the couch to see what was a thunder
My heart was thumping in fear and wonder.

He was dressed all in red from his hat to his boots,
And his clothes were more stylish than black roots.
A bundle of presents he had in hand,
He looked a bit like Mr. Pitt, with hair the colour of sand.

His eyes – deep blue! His lips needing no correction!
His cheeks were high, and his nose was perfection!
His smile was kind, and his stature was fine,
Now was I dreaming, or was it the wine.

He was standing at my door, a right good looking chap,
Yet, I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye, and a kiss on my cheek,
This vision of Christmas made me delighted but meek.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
While he looked for the stockings, I felt like a jerk.
The house was a mess that could not be fixed by even an elf,
So he took out a stocking, and hung it himself!

He sprang to his feet, he took out a box,
He said “young” lady you’re quite a fox.
And that’s when I woke up to the sound of the bell.
The phone was ringing -- what the hell?

But seriously pbasers, you all have been on my mind,
And the season makes me thankful you are all so kind.
To visit, to observe, to leave your witty comments
Thus making this season even more divine.

I hear that St. Nick is really a good fellow,
And he brings gifts to all who have been mellow.
Enjoy your families; enjoy the gifts, food and holiday cheer,
Enjoy digitally capturing yet another memorable year!

St. Nick did tell me he has no pbase popular galleries
And was wondering if pbasers were paid salaries
For their work is quite beautiful and professional
And the look of each gallery spectacularly seasonal.

I told him not to worry about my pbase friends
They are wonderful folks with passion that never ends
They are worldly, intoxicating, extremely genuine
I have spent much of my year giving them my time.

I love their photos from all over this beautiful world
They leave me in awe and make my head twirl
To know so many creative and talented photographers
I am surprised they all have not been featured on magazine covers.

But back to reality and this wonderful season
When I find time to write some words for a good reason
I want to say simply keep up the good work
I am sure you will find me at your galleries to lurk.

Now if my dream had not been interrupted,
This would have been how the evening ended.
I heard him exclaim, as he held me that night,
"Merry Christmas my love, and to all a good-night!"