The Blight Before Christmas
       …and how they all showered happily ever after.

T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Except builders, of course, for they were still there,
A’tapping and banging with mess everywhere.

The Little One nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of bathrooms still filled Father’s head.
And Mother was fretting, “When will it be done?”
For she was past caring: renovation’s no fun!

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Father spun in his wheelchair to search out the matter.
Away to the window he rolled like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon over Paradise was shining so bright
And the sight that he saw made him grin with delight!
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But a painter in white, with his ladders and gear.

Up next: the Old Builder, so lively and quick,
Father thought for a moment: “This must be a trick!”
More rapid than eagles, apprentices came,
The Boss whistled and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Painter! Now Plumber! Now Plasterer too!
“Get your backsides in here and do what you do!
“From the tiles on the floor to the paint on the wall,
“Now work away! Work away! Work away all!”

As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So into their trades all the artisans flew,
With their hammers and spanners and paint brushes too.

And then, in a twinkling, high up on the roof
Old Builder was stomping – he’s never aloof.
Father drew in his head, and was turning around,
When down the Old Builder came with a bound!

He was dressed all in Khaki, from head to his shoe,
And his clothes were so dusty with sawdust and glue.
A bundle of tools he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a Boss should: the head of the pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, 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.

But back in the house there was such a kafuffle
Something was different, and not just a trifle!
The Little One said, “Oh my gosh, what’s that odour?”
“No dear”, said the Mother, “That is an aroma!”

“There’s something or someone as clean as a whistle!
“Tis your father my dear, ‘neath the toe of the Mistle.
“Coliseum’s been finished, the bathroom is done!
“Your Father has showered, now let’s have some fun!”

He was shiny and clean, like his jolly old self,
And she laughed when she saw him, in spite of herself!
And a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave her to know she had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his Wife,
“My Favourite, it’s finished! The end of our strife!”
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, from his wheelchair he rose!

He sprang to his feet, and his Wife gave a whistle,
And they danced round and round like the top of a thistle.
They were heard to exclaim, ‘ere they danced out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

A Happy & Holy Christmas to you,
with my sincere thanks for reading your way through the year with me.
Your company is priceless.

Roderick.