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Twas the night before the leaving
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03-06-2003 5:32pm#1Twas the night before the leaving,
And all through Squalls house, not a creature was stirring
Not even his mouse,
The cog notes were stored by Sangre with care,
In the hopes that no examiner would be near,
No student was nestled snug in their bed,
All had visions of failing instead in their heads,
And Ella in her Galway scarf and I in my dunces cap,
Had just settled down with books on our laps,
When out of my schoolbag arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter,
Away to the bag I flew like a flash,
Tore open the catch and threw up the sash,
The mould on the bread of the week old sandwich,
Gave the muster of Whitey to the objects in it,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so full of ****,
I knew at once it was Shakespeare that dick,
More rapid than cartman his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name,
Now Donne, now Hopkins, now Heaney, now Plath,
On Yeats, on Frost, on Mahon and Bishop,
To the top of my bag, to the top of my wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all.
As Sundy before English notes found,
When met with an obstacle panic abound,
So into the door the coursers they flew,
With a sack full of quotes and Shakespeare too,
They fell to the floor with a satisfying thud,
And a growing pool of reindeer blood,
As I raised my head and let out a laugh,
Up jumped Shakespeare, “let me out of this gaff”
He was dressed like a ninja from his head to his foot,
With his clothes all tarnished by reindeer gut,
A bundle of quotes he had flung on his back,
Strangely resembled Jabba infact,
His eyes – how they glowed, his dimples how merry,
As I caught him one right on the cherry,
His droll little mouth was drawn like a bow,
The beard on his chin no longer like snow,
I hooked him up to my electric seat,
That smoked when I shocked him and singed his feet,
His broad little face and round little belly,
Shook when I shocked him like a bowlful of jelly,
He was chubby and plump, from pampering himself
And I laughed when he jiggled, in-spite of myself
A shake of my fist and a twist of my head,
Soon let him know he had something to dread,
He spoke not a word but went straight to work,
And filled my head with Macbeth and that lark,
Pointing a finger, at his reindeer I suppose,
I gave him a nod and out of the chair he rose,
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
None made a move, beaten to sub-missal,
But I heard him exclaim as he jumped on a truck,
HAPPY LEAVING TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD LUCK
(G'luck lads and ladies, now i really should go do some study
)
P.S Anyone whos offended by this, Sry
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Nahboi twazn't a typo at all
For more cork slang and the english translation to them
visit The peoples republic of cork Dictionary Tis feckin' daycent boi
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