The Night After Christmas

| December/January 1993

Branch 8 Newsletter editor

'T was the night before Christmas
When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even my spouse.

The stockings were empty,
The chimney was bare.
We all knew St. Nicholas
Had already been there.

I searched through the gifts
Scattered here and there
Couldn't find what I wanted,
Just sox and underwear.

I'd hoped for some parts;
A new carburetor,
A hood or a seat,
Even a generator.

Decals would be nice,
A fender just great.
A new magneto?
I guess it's too late.