‘Twas the Night BaaFore Christmas

Susanna Leonard Hill’s 3rd Annual Holiday Writing Contest Is Here!

The Contest:  Write a children’s story about a holiday mishap, mix-up, miscommunication, mistake, or potential disaster. Not to exceed 350 words.          Thank you Susanna for this opportunity.

‘Twas the Night BaaFore Christmas

It’s Christmas Eve night, and I’ve stared at the clock,

for hours and hours…it’s time for the flock.

“I’m desperate. I need you,” I yell to the sheep.

“Start jumping or something, I must get to sleep.

Tonight’s Christmas Eve and I want a new drum,

but if I’m not sleeping, then Santa won’t come.”

They jump and I count, but soon it gets boring.

Tonight more than ever, I need to be snoring.

They’re puffing and panting and I’m wide awake.

We finally agree what we need is a break.

The sheep want a drink, so we sneak out the door

and tiptoe until…they spot goodies galore!

Dashing and darting, they scatter like mice,

they slip and they slide, like the floor’s made of ice.

They skid toward the tree and then in a flash,

it tilts, and it tips, and it topples down CRASH!

Sheep 1, 2 and 3 start stuffing themselves

with branches and balls and breakable elves.

Sheep 5’s eating cookies, while 7 and 8

are licking up crumbs and chomping the plate.

Sheep 10’s busy munching, there’s green in his teeth.

Oh great, he just wolfed down my mother’s new wreath.

Sheep 9 blares the music, and now the whole flock

wiggles their wool to the Jingle Baaaaa-ell Rock!

I get them warm milk and I read them a book.

With milk they want cookies, so 6 tries to cook.

There’s flour and sugar and eggs on the wall.

Sheep 4 wants his mommy so he starts to bawl.

I do what my mom does, I sing lullabies.

As soon as he hears them, 11 just cries.

7 is wailing, then 8 and then 9.

Then all of a sudden, they all start to whine.

They’re worn-out, I’m tired. With so much to do,

It’s time to round up every ram and each ewe.

There’s 1, 2 and 34, 5, 6  and 7,

there’s 8 and there’s 9, and 10 and 11

Oh no, now the counting has put them to sleep.

Dear Santa, bring brooms, I’ve got so much to sweep.

newsheep