'Twas the Night Before Christmas (On Elm Street)

‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house,
not a creature was sleeping, surely not Timmy Strauss

His traps were all set; he laid them with care.
In case he couldn’t wake from his latest nightmare.

As tired as he was, he wouldn’t dare close his eyes.
But not why you’d think, nor why you’d surmise.

He snapped at the band he placed on his wrist.
The pain was so great, his hand made a fist.

His pulse was racing – sweat dotted his face.
He said all his prayers, and repeated them – post haste!

“What’s going on? Why the fear?” You inquire.
“This night should be joyous, but Timmy’s so dire!”

The reason is simple Tim’s shaken to the core.
His expected caller’s not of Ol’ Christmas lore.

As you may guess, this won’t come as a shock
Even Santa himself fears young Timmy’s block.

But that’s what you get when your mailbox comes complete,
With an inscription that reads – six sixty six Elm Street.

So pray for young Timmy that he survives the night
His mom’s just kissed him and turned off his light.

A long metallic screech Tim heard from the roof
He hides under covers not waiting for proof.

He curls in a ball with his teddy bear beside,
As he pictures the guy with the face that looks fried.

But a funny thing happened on this Christmas Eve
The sound faded off, Timmy was quite relieved.

He got out of bed and ran to the window –
to see a fat bearded man with eight ‘deer in tow.

Timmy laughed at his fears, as his heart stopped racing
He breathed in deeply, his worries, erasing.
But on turning around, in true horror fashion,
Freddy Krueger stared down, Timmy’s face turned ashen.

I’ll spare you the details, but ‘twas was not a pretty sight,
A Merry Christmas to all and to all a good fright.

Rock On,

Aitch