Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, except grandma's mouse.
The stockings weren't hung by the chimney with care,
I'm busy playing Acro, from my rocking chair.

Were the children all nestled all snug in their bed?
Who knows? I've visions of acros cramming my head.
With Grandpa in his kerchief, and I in my cap,
Discovered "Now Acro Playing" is an acro for nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I stayed at my ‘puter cause nothing else matters.
Over the keyboard, fingers flew like flash,
Now it's the face-off, Please, please don't crash.

The moon on the breast of the green palm trees glow,
Gave cause to remember Prepare A Lawn, Mow.
When what to my weary eyes should appear,
The perfect acro, "St. Nick's Reindeer".

Now outside was a driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, my acro thoughts came,
Four-letter acros? Use reindeer by name!

Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer And Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner And Blitzen!
To the top of the list,
To the top above all,
Now vote away! Vote away!
Vote away all!!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricanes fly,
The keyboard was clicking and I'll tell you why.
See up to the house-top the courses they flew,
First finish the acro, then see Santa too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I picked up my cane and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
But all I kept thinking was an acro for soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
I wondered if Acrophobia was stuffed in his pack.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
But I kept playing Acro in spite of myself
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know, He plays acro from bed.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
Whispered to me, the Acro he chose.

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,

Kathryn J Powell
Grandma