Sent to me by a buddy from University
days.
Merry Christmas to all and hope you
have a happy and prosperous New
Years.
Twas the night before Christmas...
Harper led the house
Only Liberals were whinning, meek as
a mouse.
The directors were smug and without
care.
In hopes that the monopoly would
remain there.
The farmers were nestled all snug in
their beds,
While visions of durum contracts
danced in their heads.
Mamma in her ‘kerchief and I in my
cap,
Had just settled our brains for a
long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such
a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was
the matter.
Away to the window I flew like cash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up
the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-
fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the
objects below.
A miniature sleigh and eight donkeys
hooked,
Who manage our markets and our gooses
cooked.
With a chubby fat driver, so smelling
of ale,
I knew in a moment it must be Ralf
Goodale.
More rapid than eagles his directors
they came,
who snorted, shouted, and called
farmers vane!
"Now Flaman! now, Woods! now, Goff
and Korneychuck!
On, Wells! On Stupid! on, on Donner
and luck!
To the grain bins and silos and
hardworking stash!
Before peasant farmers turn crop into
cash!"
And then in an instant, I heard on
the roof
The fat man was tackled, and crazy 8
turned loose.
As I drew in my head, and was turning
around,
Down the chimney Stephen Harper came
with a bound.
He was all dressed in red, from his
head to his foot,
And his clothes smelled of barley
mixed in dirty soot.
A bundle of hope he slung on his
back,
From years of oppression, just now
fighting back.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his
dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose
like a cherry!
The stump of a pipe he held tight in
his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head
like a wreath.
He spoke not a word, but went
straight to work,
He smacked old Ralph Goodale, and
called him a jerk.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his new
team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the shot
of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew
out of sight,
"Marketing Freedom to all, and to all
a good life!"
days.
Merry Christmas to all and hope you
have a happy and prosperous New
Years.
Twas the night before Christmas...
Harper led the house
Only Liberals were whinning, meek as
a mouse.
The directors were smug and without
care.
In hopes that the monopoly would
remain there.
The farmers were nestled all snug in
their beds,
While visions of durum contracts
danced in their heads.
Mamma in her ‘kerchief and I in my
cap,
Had just settled our brains for a
long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such
a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was
the matter.
Away to the window I flew like cash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up
the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-
fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the
objects below.
A miniature sleigh and eight donkeys
hooked,
Who manage our markets and our gooses
cooked.
With a chubby fat driver, so smelling
of ale,
I knew in a moment it must be Ralf
Goodale.
More rapid than eagles his directors
they came,
who snorted, shouted, and called
farmers vane!
"Now Flaman! now, Woods! now, Goff
and Korneychuck!
On, Wells! On Stupid! on, on Donner
and luck!
To the grain bins and silos and
hardworking stash!
Before peasant farmers turn crop into
cash!"
And then in an instant, I heard on
the roof
The fat man was tackled, and crazy 8
turned loose.
As I drew in my head, and was turning
around,
Down the chimney Stephen Harper came
with a bound.
He was all dressed in red, from his
head to his foot,
And his clothes smelled of barley
mixed in dirty soot.
A bundle of hope he slung on his
back,
From years of oppression, just now
fighting back.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his
dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose
like a cherry!
The stump of a pipe he held tight in
his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head
like a wreath.
He spoke not a word, but went
straight to work,
He smacked old Ralph Goodale, and
called him a jerk.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his new
team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the shot
of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, as he flew
out of sight,
"Marketing Freedom to all, and to all
a good life!"
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