Twas' The Night Before Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Lounge
Not a teacher was sewing, not even the one with a big mouth;
The stockings were hung by the sergers with care,
In hopes that Ms. Tisha soon would be there;
The students were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of patterns danced in their heads;
And Cecily in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long quilted wrap,
When out on the cutting table there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the other studio I flew like a flash,
Tore open the door and threw up my sash.
The moon on the breast of the newly-made coat,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects to sew,
When what to my wondering ears did I hear,
But a miniature sewing machine that brought me to tears,
With a little charming seamstress so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment she must be Ms. Paulette
More rapid than a Juki the sewers all came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Alaya! now, Carrie! now Rakecia and Vixen!
On, Rose! on, Rhonda! on, Leilani and Blitzen!
To the front of the studio! Next to the fabric wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with a sewing obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the ironing table the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of sewing notions, and Wax fabric too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney the Fabric Queen came with a bound.
She was dressed all in fur, from her head to her feet,
And her clothes were all handmade and flashy and sweet
A bundle of fat quarters she had flung on her back,
And she looked like a fabric hoarder just opening her pack.
Her eyes—how they twinkled! her dimples, how merry!
Her cheeks were like Mona’s, her nose like a cherry!
Her sash around her waist was drawn up like a bow,
And the Janet Jacket she wore was as white as the snow;
She wore wide leg pants with a cuff at the bottom
That moved when she walked, like she was doing the rhumba.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And made a bunch of stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney she rose;
She sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thimble.
But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good sewing night!”