Christmas sorta passes me by these days. However I’d like to reblog this modern take on an old story by talented blogger The Wanderer.

The Wanderer

T’was the night before break, when all through the college,
Not a brain cell was stirring, a sad fact to acknowledge,
The suitcases were packed by the door with care,
In hopes that our rides home soon would be there.

The students were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of no homework danced in their heads;
And Janie in her onesie, and I with my frap,
had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the road, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from our futon to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
pulled up the blinds, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the road below,
gave the lustre of midday to the headlights’ glow,
when what should appear to disbelieving us,
but the rumbling roar of the LATS drunk bus.

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