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Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Night before Christmas (Dunnam Version)

(author warning- kelvin)
Have you ever heard a song, poem or story that you liked, but it just didn't quiet fit your circumstance? Have you ever wanted to amend the song or story, sort of like that C&W song "Bar light, bar bright, first bar I see tonight..."? Anyhow, I recently heard a reading of Night Before Christmas and had a little trouble relating to it and decided to pen a Dunnam version...

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, except for one shaky mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that a healing soon would be there;

Emma was laying there in her bed,

With her shrinking body and ever-small head;

And mamma up worrying, and I in the sack,

Both so longing for a long winter's nap,

When across the room there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the crib I flew like a flash,

Tore open the sheets and threw up the sash.

The lowly moan from the mouth of the babe

Told of the pain from which she must be saved,

When, what to my wondering eyes should be seen,

But a tiny syringe full of Morphine,

With a steady hand and all sleepiness gone,

I knew in a moment it must be her Mom!

More rapid than eagles her remedies came,

And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Morphine! Now, Valium! And Klonopin!

On, Prevacid! On Codeine! And Zonegran!

Reach for the tablet! Grab bottle and all!

Seizures dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

She dispensed the meds and ceased the cry,

So away with the shakes, and the cries of pain too,

Emma lay quietly as new morning dew.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the kitchen

As she prepared the next round of meds she’d be needing.

As I drew in a breath, and was tempted to follow the sound,

In the door came Emma’s Mom with a bound.

She was covered in worry, from her head to her foot,

And her clothes a second-thought as she reached for the Book;

A bundle of tears she tried to hold back,

And she looked like a dam just before it would crack.

Emma’s eyes -- how they once twinkled! her dimples once so merry!

Her cheeks were like roses, her nose a cute cherry!

Her sweet little mouth drew up like a bow,

Now the wings on her back are as white as the snow;

She was once bubbly, but now not her old self,

And I try to be strong, in spite of myself;

A wink of her eye and a jerk of her head,

And again we heard the moan we so dread;

We spoke not a word, but went straight to work,

And filled all the syringes to battle Myoclonic jerks,

And clinching a fist on the side of her face,

And giving a cry, to tell again of the pain;

Emma sprang out full body, stiff as a board,

With muscles that appeared to be no more.

Then I heard her exclaim, through the screams of her fight,

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
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