Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the town
Not a bicyclist was riding, snow had come down
The toys were piled by the tree with much care,
In hopes of Gary that more would be there.
The FOGBEES were planning with thoughts of a ride,
With lights on their bikes, they weren’t going to hide.
And Phil dressed as Frostie, and Bruce as an elf,
They formed a long line with Santa himself.
When out on the road there arose such a clatter,
Motorists stopped to see what was the matter.
Along each car window little faces did appear,
Some even thought they were seeing reindeer.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave lustre of mid-day to bicycles below.
When, what to a wandering eye should appear,
But a long line of FOGBEEs riding without fear.
With many old pedalers, so lively, but some sickly,
All knew in a moment, it must be a FOGBEE.
More slower than turtles intensely they came,
Their leader whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
Now Ronnie, now David, now Phil, now Bruce and Gary,
On Bobbie, on Eddie, on Annie and Sherry.
To the road by the Walmart, to every store in the mall,
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all.
1 comment:
Great poetry and imagination! Also, a client donated 20.00 to have me get a gift for a child.
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