The Night Before Christmas-Biker Style

Twas the night before Christmas when all through the garages

Not a motorcycle was rumbling, Except for Santa Claus’s,

The leather was hung in the closet with care

In hopes for nice weather, soon would be there,

Our bikes were all nestled snug in their covers

With visions of blacktop and burning up rubber,

With momma in her bandana and I in my skull cap

We had just settled down for a long winters nap,

When out on the lawn, arose such a rumble

I sprang from the bed as I started to grumble,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear

Was a pack of motorcycles, with riders and gear,

With one old driver so lively and quick

I knew in a moment it must be biker St. Nick,

He was dressed all in Leather, from his head to his foot

And his clothes were all tarnished with bugs and road soot,

A bundle of chrome he had flung on his back

Down the chimney he came, carrying a big red sack,

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work

As he filled all the riding boots, then turned with a jerk,

And laying a finger aside of his nose

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose,

He sprang to his motorcycle, to his team gave a sign

As they all cracked there throttles and got into a line,

Now Honda, Now Harley, Now Triumph and Indian

On Kawi, On Suzuki, On Yamaha and Victory,

But I heard him exclaim as he roared out of sight

Keep the rubber side down and have a good ride.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.