Twas the Night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, and back at my house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The Trucker was nestled all snug in it's bed
While visions of Northern Route danced in his head.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
He sprang to his wheels to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he rolled like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
Was Saint Nick on a Surly, with all of his gear.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And checked on his list to see who was a jerk.
But no worries here, no not in this house,
They all would get something, even the mouse.

The stockings were stuffed to the gills with fun things.
New panniers, new chains, new racks with no dings.
...a handle bar bag with an ACA map,
...a new sleeping bag, a new cycling cap.
...a camera, a kick-stand, and even some Gu
Heck, he even brought a SPOT locate-r too!

That little old rider, so lively and spry
He looked at The Trucker and winked with his eye.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He jumped on his Surly and said "HO HO HO,"
He pedeled like mad in the new fallen snow.
The Trucker could then not believe what he saw,
Santa's wheels left the ground, with barely a yaw.

He whistled, and shouted, he yelled in mid-flight
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"