How the Watley Review came to be. Sort of.

Volume 2, Issue 42, December 21, 2004

A Watley Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a Watley was stirring; (We were a bit Soused.)
Ephram's Stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes of some Cleansing by wintry night Air.

My staffers Uncouthly were sprawled about Snoring;
For their Christmas party had been far from Boring.
And I laid down my Cane and donned my white Cap,
And poured a Glenfiddich for the evening's long Nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a Fuss,
I sprang from my bed with my old Blunderbuss.
Away to the window I flew like a shot!
(Well "flew's" not the word, with the years that I've got.)

With spectacles Donned I saw it was Snowing,
And I looked hard for Comings or clandestine Goings.
Then, what to my Marveling eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny Reindeer.

Now Scotch can convince you of things which might Seem
Strangely Realistic, though 'tis but a Dream.
But just because Something might be less than Real
Is no reason to Scoff at such Marvels, I feel.

"Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Kraut!"
Called the stout Driver as he nearly fell Out.
"To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
But Carefully! Carefully! Don't let me Fall!"

The show was Amusing, this dance in the Sky;
What a Marvelous hallucination, said I!
So up to the housetop the vehicle flew,
With a sleigh full of Gifts, and Saint Nicholas, too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The Holes they were making (Next morning, the Proof!)
As I drew in my head, and sipped some more Scotch,
Down the chimney Saint Nicholas came as I watched.

He was dressed all in fur, and quite tarnished with Soot;
I did wish some News-papers down I had put.
A bundle of Gifts he then dropped on the Floor;
How Ephram would Drool to see all this and More!

His eyes how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
Then he stared at the Scotch, and he gazed at the Sherry;
His droll little mouth made a small Smacking sound.
I quickly Invited him, (since he'd come around)
To sit for a Spell and have something to Drink.
"I am sure you could use a short Break now, I think!"

He paused but a Moment, to say "Well, just a Bit.
My route is quite Long and I must never Quit."
A glass of Glenfiddich he downed at one Go.
"Perhaps, just a touch more - It's healthy, you Know."

So glass followed Glass, and then came the Bottle.
His cheeks, which were Rosy, soon became Mottled;
We laughed and we Chatted, on matters quite Deep,
Until it was Morning, and we fell Asleep.

So if you are Wond'ring, why your Stocking's so Light
And why Santa did not visit Your tree last night,
I'm afraid I'm to blame for it, or so it Seems;
Well, I and the Scotch (for we worked as a Team).

But fear Not! - the presents are here in a Pile
And if you come by I'll dispense with a Smile
Any gift with your Name on it: it is your Right.
Happy Christmas to All, and to All a Good-Night!

Ezekiel F. Watley, Esq.