T’was the week before Christmas, when all through the house
Many creatures were stirring–my kids, pets, and my spouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Arnold soon would be there.
While the teenagers were nestled, all snug in their beds,
Visions of iTunes gift cards danced in their heads.
Me in my Snuggie, and Paul in his Steelers cap,
Had just settled in for a long night to wrap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the blinds, and spilled my beer with a splash.
What to my wondering eyes should appear,
A miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer!
With a little old driver, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment that beer did the trick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
He whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
Now Dogfish, now Boulder, now Oskar, now Victory;
On 3 Floyds, on Stone, on Avery, on Yeti!
Up to the housetop, those coursers they flew;
With a sleigh full of hops, and I was hoping, some brew.
As I went to the fridge for another beer,
Right in my living room St. Arnold did appear.
He was dressed all in red from his head to his toe,
Just like the Santa on my beer label, you know?
A bundle of beers he had flung on his back,
He looked surprisingly like New Albion’s Jack.
His eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were all flushed, he had so much to carry!
He spoke not a word and went straight to his chore,
Filling the stockings with lagers, bocks, pilsners and more.
Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
Giving a burp, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his beery team gave a shout,
And away they all flew, like a me downing a stout.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
Happy beer drinking to all, and to all a good night!