Twas the night before Christmas
And as I reached for the cat,
Lightning shot from my fingers
It knocked off my hat.
Static electricity -
Zinging from my fingers.
Prickling and sparking
Like a hive full of stingers.
And since she's a cat
wouldn't you expect,
That she would claw and hiss
until my arm was a wreck?
But no - with a glance over her shoulder,
With barely a twitch,
She regarded me as little more
Than a worm in a ditch
I breathed a sigh of relief
At the lack of spitting and claws.
I think she knows he is watching -
Good Ol' Santa Claus
Quack!
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