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'Twas quite the sight before Christmas: (with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore).

'Twas quite a sight before Christmas, when all through the land
not a creature was moving, not even a man
Ducks once thought alive, had fast become stuck
because seeking a rest they all landed in muck.

The politicians of Alberta lay snug in their beds
while visions of royalties danced in their heads
Harper in his hockey shirt, and Redford in her suit
Had portraits well placed. How very astute.

From Athabasca arose news with such a huge clatter
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Found the TV remote, turned it on with a pop
Slapped myself on the head and felt my jaw drop.

The moon on the sheen of the newly-spewn tailing
gave a lustre of oil to all that was ailing
Because to my horror-stricken eyes did befall
A sludge-covered sleigh and eight tiny reindeer beginning to bawl.

With a gentle old driver, who must have been Nick,
Things couldn't have been good in that horrid arsenic.
More scathing than a volcano his curses they came
and he shouted at Alberta and called it vile names.

You blackguards! You fools!
You greedy self-serving tools!
Poor Comet! Poor Vixen!
You've killed them all! Even Blitzen!
From the top of the land
To the bottom of the world
How will I ever bring Christmas
To each boy and girl?

Then in a twinkling of an eye, a wondrous sight did appear
There were searchlights and a helicopter
And wait --
Al Gore in the rear.

Up Dasher! Up Dancer!
Hold on, Prancer and Vixen.
C'mon Comet! Up Cupid!
Don't despair Donner and Blitzen!

From the bottom of the machine
A long harness did fall
To the surface of the pond
Come to rescue them all.

The moonlight combined with the oil-covered snow
gave a glow to the scene that was happening below --
That smart Mr. Gore, so lively and quick
Dragged them out one by one, even tubby old Nick.

Gore sprang to the cabin, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he flew out of sight,
Darn inconvenient it all was, but never give up the fight.

Merry Christmas!

- C.P. Weary is a Kitchener-based writer who pens a humourous column about current affairs. Comments are welcome at: Visit

[c] Copyright 2011 C.P.Weary.
COPYRIGHT 2011 Carol Parafenko
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
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Title Annotation:The Scoop
Author:Weary, C.P.
Publication:Paris Chronicle (Paris, Canada)
Article Type:Poem
Date:Dec 21, 2011
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