I KNOW ITS NO WHERE NEAR CHRISTMAS BUT I HAD To UPLOAD BE NICE THIS IS MY FIRST STORY
Twas the night before Christmas, When all through the house
Not a monster was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the hearth with care,
In hopes that Zeus would soon be there.
The Halfbloods were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Quests danced in their heads.
And father in his armor and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winters nap.
When out on the field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
I flew like lightning,
To see a sight that was quite frightening.
The moon on the breast of a new fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to deities below.
When suddenly my eyes went colossus,
For down below was a miniature chariot pulled by eight Pegasus.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment this must be Zeus the dramatic.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
Now Blackjack! Now, Arion! Now Porkpie and Guido!
On, Rainbow! On, Cupid! On, Ophiotauras and Skipio!
To the top of the arena! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!
With the oak leaves afloat before the hurricanes fly,
When they meet an obstacle, mount to the skies.
So up to the big-house top the coursers they flew,
With the Chariot full of weapons, and old king Zeus too.
Than with a flash, I saw on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the hearth King Zeus came with a bound.
He was dressed all in bronze, from his head to his foot,
And his armor was all tarnished with ashes and soot.
With a bundle of weapons he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a camper, just opening his pack.
His eyes how they flashed! His expression real scary!
His face like a god, His nose like a crow's!
As dramatic as ever he thundered "I am Zeus welcome to the Show!"
He stared at me hard, his mouth like a bow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke encircled his head like a laurel wreath.
He had a tanned face, and little beard.
That shook when he scowled, which looked a little weird.
He was regal and ruff, a right spiteful old yelp.
And I bowed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A glare in his eye, and a twist in his head,
Soon told me I had something to dread.
He spoke not a word, but got straight to his work,
He filled all the stockings, and turned like a jerk.
With a flick to his bolt, and a twitch to his nose,
He gave one last nod, up the hearth he rose!
He sprang to his chariot; to his team he gave a whistle.
And away he flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight.
"Oh why does Hera make me do this every Christmas night?"