Some Holiday Laughter ... I Hope

Twas the night before Christmas

And all through the land

Not a creature was stirring

Not even the band

The stockings were hung

On our handlebars with care

In hopes that St. Nicolas

Wouldn't wake our friend Bear

The bikers were nestled

All snug in their tents

While visions of chrome

Made them feel like real gents

The 'ol lady in her halter

And I in my skull cap

Had just settled down

For a bit of a nap

When out in the field

There was a loud noise

I sprang from my tent

Trying not to wake the boys

Away to the bikes

I flew as if gassed

My vision was sharp

No thief would get past

When what to my tired old eyes did appear

But a red clad biker

With a long white beard

A pretty stout rider

On a custom red cruiser

"It must be St. Nick"

I said to old Bruiser

He was dressed in red leather

From his head to his boot

That was trimmed in white fur

It was a really cool suit

The stump of a cigar

He held tight in his teeth

While the smoke encircled

His head like a wreath

His eyes really twinkled

His demeanor quite merry

The bike he was on

Was really quite cherry

He got off his ride

And reached in the side hack

Then gave a little grunt

As he pulled out a sack

He spoke not a word

But went straight to our rides

He left us all gifts

Made of steel and cow hides

Then taking his keys

He was ready to depart

He got on his bike

And gave it a start

But I heard him yell

As he turned to his side

"Merry Christmas to all

And to all a safe ride."