‘Twas the night I decided to write a ‘twas poem,
One week before Christmas when no one was home.
But for dream entrenched hounds, their paws all a’twitch,
The house was as still as the warts on a witch.

Reindogs sleeping 3

 I was still feeling grinchy, though everything’d been done—
From choosing a tree to the stockings that’d been hung.
Was it the sunshine, the warm breezes that felt so out of season?
Most likely, ’twas the fishdeer.

Fishdeer 4

That must’ve been the reason.

So I was sitting in my jammies, swathed in candle’s scented light,
Eyes closed and sipping cocoa,
Mulling over what ‘Twas I might write,
When suddenly, from the chimney there rose
A clatter, whoosh, and CRASH!
Trailed by words I’d never say for fear of sounding brash.

“OH HO-LY Sch-NIKE! What the fava bean was that?”
Except much worse rolled off my tongue,
As a matter of foccachia fact.

I leapt off the couch.
Hit the floor with a SMACK!
Grabbed hold of my laptop,
Swung it ‘round, until
“Oh, no!” I exclaimed.
“Please, not the TV!”
As it dropped off the wall and knocked over the tree.
And that is when it came again—
A clatter, whoosh, and CRASH!
‘Cept this time it ’twas different – ’twas
Complete with billowing ash.

My heart began pounding loudly,
So loud it was difficult to hear,
And my throat had a lump, the size of a goat that bleat “Baa-baa-baa” inside my ear.
Adrenalin now a’pumping,
Still wreaking havoc in my wake,
I dashed up the stairs while screaming,
“I’ve been good! For goodness sake!”

And then lo and behold,
From the top of the stair,
I let go a gasp
As no one was there.

‘Twas far from a thief
Or even Santa arriving early.
‘Twas in fact, a wily weather front,
A nor-wester, that had acted quite surly.

Relieved all was well, I heaved a great sigh
And decided to put pen to paper.
Yes, that’s when I sat, writing St. Nick by hand,
And described the eve’s harrowing caper.


And what do you think that sweet old man did,
Even though he had so much to do?
He sent me a note that said,
Cheer up my sweet.
I’ve got techno-elves on it for you.
There’s only one hitch.
It still needs a tweak,
Will bring your laptop next week.

 Now that, my dear friends,
Is the end of my ‘Twas.
I hope that it ’twas entertaining.

Alas, if it ’twasn’t,
Well, then that’s too bad,
For ’tis Christmas,
And there’ll be no complaining!

TreeThank you for visiting today and for being a part of my world.

I wish you and yours

Many blessings,

Much health, peace, and happiness




About Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner

I am an adventure seeking ponderer of the mysteries of the universe, writer of children's books (represented by Stephen Fraser of the Jennifer DeChiara Literary Agency), and lover of anything involving armor, archery, or swashbuckling.
This entry was posted in ADVENTURES, HOLIDAYS, HUMOR, POEMS and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to ‘TIS a ‘TWAS

  1. helenmidgley says:

    T’was a great read, 😉


  2. Vic says:

    very entertaining as always! So what t’was it that really happened or t’wasn’t it true?


  3. Lyn says:

    Very entertaining and fun read, Donna. Have a very blessed Christmas and a New Year filled with love, joy, peace and contentment.


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