Kringle

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'Twas the Night of the Nocturne, when all thru the lair,
The only thing stirring was the antique chair;
The stockings were hung by the fire like so,
In hopes that it'd keep them from eating our toes;

The hatchlings were nestled all snug in their dens,
While visions of mimics danced in their heads,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my nest to see what was the matter.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Gave the luster of mid-day to living objects below;
As out cried a voice, desperately hoping for answer,
So my wings acted quick, swift as a Skydancer.

Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sentient sleigh, pulled by monstrous reindeer,
With a dragon aboard, his bells all a-twinkle,
I knew in a moment it must be Sir Kringle.

More rapid than Roundsey he called out my name,
Begging for rescue from his captors' cruel game:
"You, Nocturne there, help, or I may not survive,
"This treacherous night, now my sleigh's come alive!

"Grab hold of these reins - and watch for the teeth;
"A deft dragon's paw can yet tame now these beasts.
"Just give them a tug, let the bells ring their sound,
"And they'll settle enough to let me back on the ground."

I did as was told, avoiding the bite,
Of the elk and the sled that had stolen the night,
And while helping the gaoler down off of his perch,
He reached into his sack and started to search.

"Now for your good help, I shall gift unto you,
"The bounties of Sornieth, all (mostly) brand new;
"I do hope you like what I've brought you this day,
"For I fear the return trip back home on this sleigh!"

[Written as a gift delivery message for a Secret Santa gift exchange with friends]