T'was the Night Before Sweep Stakes

I wrote this last year and wanted to share it again this year. Hope you all have fun in the sweeps and hope to work you!

Twas the night before Sweep Stakes and all through the bands,
Not a signal was Q'ing, not even VE-land.
The dipole was hung by the oak trees with care,
In hopes that all 80 would hear me out there.

The rigs were all ready their LED's glowed red,
While visions of plaques and awards ran through my head.
And my Elmer in the kitchen, and I in my FISTS shirt,
Had just finished arguing who would come in first.

When out in the yard there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from the table to see what was the matter.
Away to the screen door I ran like a flash,
Caught the stove corner and my leg got a gash.

The sparks of the power lines and the new fallen dipole,
Gave the luster of mid-day as we both said "OH NO!".
When what to our wondering eyes should we see,
The body of a dead squirrel at the base of the tree.

With little time left we had to act quick,
I knew right then we needed our friend Nick.
More rapid that code we called and he came,
He brought over his buddies and yelled out there names.

"Now Bubba! Now Fred! get the rope and start swaying,
Come on John! stop that Ralph, put down that squirrel and stop playing!
To the top of the trees! tie them ropes well,"
Bubba broke wind, and Fred nearly fell!

As dry leaves crackle and cold winds fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, obscenities flew,
So up to the trees and the roof the cursers ran quick,
With a hand full of tools, except for Nick.

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The slipping and scraping of shingles that were loose.
As I covered my mouth, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came Nick with a thud to the ground.

He was covered in leaves from his head to his foot,
His clothes were all ripped and smeared with soot.
He landed on his back, just missed the front stoop,
But he managed to land right in my dog's poop.

His eyes glassed over, his expression not very merry,
His cheeks were like roses, in his nose was stuck a black berry!
His mouth was drawn up as tight as a bow,
Then he spit out two teeth right into the snow.

The stump of his cigar he had in his teeth,
Was now lodged in his hair and smoked like a wreath.
He brushed it out; ashes fell to his round belly,
As he cussed it shook like a bowl full of jelly.

He was a sight like a plump jolly elf,
And I laughed as I saw him in spite of myself.
A twitch of his arm and a twist of his head,
He gave me a look that I knew I would dread.

He spoke not a word and went back to work,
He got the dipole up and muttered "there you jerk".
Laying his fingers aside his sore nose,
He told me I owed him some new cloths.

He sprang to his pickup and gave his team a whistle,
And away they flew down the driveway like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as his tires squealed like a pig,
"Good luck tomorrow, and I left the squirrel on your rig"!

Good luck everyone and have fun!

72, oo
Dan, N8IE
FPqrp #-6, QRP-l #1404, FISTS #4985

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