candy cane
'Twas The Night Before Catmas

   
 Twas the night before Catmas  
 When all through the house  
 Not an animal was stirring,  
 Not even the mouse.  
   
 The kitties were snuggled  
 And tucked in their beds,  
 While visions of cat goodies  
 Danced in their heads.  
   
 Their stockings were hung  
 By the cat bowls with care,  
 In hope that Father Catmas  
 Soon would be there.  
   
 Out on the rooftop  
 There arose such a hissing,  
 I knew Father Catmas  
 Was having trouble parking.  
   
 I jumped on the couch,  
 Stuck my nose to the curtain.  
 "Here he is!", I purred  
 "It is him, I'm certain."  
   
 What to my deep blue eyes  
 Should appear,  
 But Father Catmas himself  
 In his Catsled gear.  
   
 He purred and he purredred,  
 But through the kitty door he went,  
 Then stopped and smelled the air  
 As he picked up a scent.  
   
 The cat cookies we left him  
 Were by the back door.  
 The kitties had baked them  
 Not an hour before.  
   
 He went about his work  
 With never a sigh,  
 Filling the stockings  
 With toys piled high.  
   
 He waved at me  
 With his mighty paw.  
 Although I was hiding,  
 'Twas my little nose he saw.  
   
 Out the kitty door he went  
 In oh such a rush,  
 Jumped on his catsled  
 And yelled out, "MUSH!"  
   
 The eight Maine Coon cat team  
 Were raring to go.  
 They hated 'stand stay',  
 Especially in the snow.  
   
 I could hear him hissing  
 As he disappeared that night,  
 "Merry Catmas to all!  
 OK team, turn rrrrright!"