I saw this in the "Peace and Quiet with an Evo" thread-that-never-ends over in the Evo Forum, and thought I would share it with the Crew here. It was posted by texashillcountry there.

The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and not until Spring
Would a motor be running, not even a Wing.
The bikes are all sleeping, they're covered and warm,
Batteries are tended, nylon covers their form.
My bros were all nestled down snug in their beds,
While visions of new chrome danced in their heads.

And I in my do-rag, bike jacket and boots,
Out shoveling snow and dreaming of scoots.
Then from the horizon there came such a clatter,
My shovel I dropped, what could be the matter?
Away up the hill, I slogged through the snow,
Looked up at the sky; where'd all the noise go?

Then a throb from the heavens, like straight pipes so hearty
Gave Summers' good thoughts, a loud bikers party,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a Hog Ultra Classic, red trailer in rear!
With a little old rider, so lively and quick.
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than a V-Rod his Ultra came on,
And he whistled and shouted and sang out this song;
"Now Springer! Now Dyna! On Ultra and Softail!
Now Vulkan! Now *****! On Victory and Honda!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now RIDE away! RIDE away! RIDE away all!"
As small bikes that from the semis do fly,
When they meet with the air blast, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top that Ultra it flew,
With a trailer of goodies and ole' St. Nick too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The rumble and thunder of pipes that gave proof.
I ran in the house, boots thumping around,
And in came St. Nick and bearded and round,
Dressed all in black leather, from do-rag to boot,
His chaps were all tarnished with road grime and soot.

A T-bag of goodies he'd flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack,
His shades -- how they twinkled! His do-rag how scary,
With chains intertwined, through skulls that were cherry!
His droll little mouth had done many a row,
So the beard of his chin was as white as the snow,
The stump of a pipe he held in his teeth,
The smoke had a strange smell; it gave him relief.

He had a broad face and a large, over-hung beer belly,
That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was tattooed and plump, a right jolly old rider.
So I offered a cold brew, thought what could be righter?
A wink of his eye as he downed that cold beer,
Gave me to know I had nothing to fear.

He spoke not a word but went to my ride,
And fixed it with Chrome, Horsepower and Pride,
And giving the peace sign with bikers good cheer,
Strode off to his Ultra rumbling near.
He sprang on the saddle, his gloves on the bars,
A wheelie he threw; then off towards the stars.
I heard him exclaim, as my chest swelled with pride,
"MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD RIDE!"

 

Thanks Ken!

 

Ha Ha Ha, Cute Ken, thanks for sharing.

 

And especially those men and women who cannot be home for XMAS, perhaps a wish for some peace ! Cheers all, Scott

 

I hope he drops some goodies off at my house!

 

I hear "Santa" drives a big brown truck these days, JJ!

 

Havent seen one around here in awhile

 

I'll second THAT... we all need to remember our brave service personnel who are in far-away lands working hard to keep us safe this Christmas.

 

Agreed! For the 1st time in years all military personnel we know or are related to are safe on US soil and all but one will be home for Christmas
!

 

I know several who are deployed in the Army, and one woman rider friend of ours is deploying on Dec 29 (Navy). My next door neighbor is a civilian contractor in Iraq, too. He's gone for nearly a year at a time.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AMERICAN SERVICE PERSONNEL. We WILL remember you on Christmas.