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One Less Sleigh

by j j

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was cycling, not even a mouse. The Sugoi Wool Socks hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Trick soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of freestyling danced in their heads. And Mama in her Do Wrap, and I in my Skull Cap, had just carbo-loaded for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,

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

And what to my wondering eyes should appear,

but an Apogee XT with Rock Shox front and rear!

With a little old rider, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Trick.

More rapid than eagles, his course he did ride,

as he whistled and shouted and broke not his stride:

He Dashed! He Danced!

On the pedals he Pranced!

Like a Comet he flew

using rooftops like ramps!

To the top of the porch!

To the top of the wall!

To the top of the house

No object too tall!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

He would meet with an obstacle and mount to the sky

so up to the house-top with a kickout he flew,

with Panniers full of toys, and other goodies too.

Then came a twinkle from the roof he was on,

it was his headlight, a PrincetonTec Yukon.

As I drew in my head and was turning around,

down the chimney St. Trick, rode with a bound.

The RockShox absorbed the hit with ease,

then he pedaled on over right next to the tree.

Messenger Bag of toys he had flung on his back,

he stepped off his pedals and opened his sack.

His eyes how they twinkled with Smith Optics glass;

His outfit was rad from his head to his __ __ __.  (Shoes)

Vagabond Jacket encircled his chest,

and his 6 Panel Tights, looked like some of the best.

He was thin and trim, a right healthy old elf,

Quite a change from his last years big fat self!

Since St. Nick took up cycling and changed his name to St. Trick,

He rides year round and commutes by bike on his trips!

When he was through unpacking he dinged his bell,

and munched down a Bumblebar before hitting the trail.

Then he sprang to his bicycle, and without a care,

climbed right up the chimney grabbing major air.

Then away he flew from roof top to top,

but I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he made his next stop,

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good ride!

 
Burley nomad 229

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