The night before Fitzmas

[wovenpaint]

I was inspired by another poster's comment that we should have this poem(but can't find the post now....), and since it's a rainy Sunday afternoon, here it is.
(I hope this is in the right place-Mods, please move if necessary)
I hope you like it!

THE NIGHT BEFORE FITZMAS (adapted from Clement C.Moore's famous poem)

Twas, maybe, the night before Fitzmas, when all through white house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a louse?
High hopes were sung by the internet sphere in hope that indictments would soon be there.

And Mama in her DU tee-shirt and I in my FW cap, had just settled down to a long, C-Span nap.
When out from the screen there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my couch to see what’s the matter.
Away to the computer. I flew like a flash, tore open the popcorn and threw out the trash.

The spotlight on the bre*st (censored!) of the newly fallen lies, gave luster of midday to newly-opened eyes.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a hugh limo and lawyers to the rear.
With such a driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment, it must be “St.“ Fitz.

More rapid than soaring eagles, his lawyers they came, and Fitz whistled and shouted and called out by name,
“Now Libby, now Hannah, now Rove and now Card, On Condi, on Judy, on Cheney -and BUSH et all!
To the top of the portico, to the top of the wall, now, dash away, dash way, dash away ALL!”

As aspen leaves that before the wild hurricane Wilma fly, when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
so up to the hilltop the lawyers they flew, with files full of indictments, and “St” Fitzgerald, too.

Then, in a twinkling, I heard there was PROOF- that caused pawing and prancing of each evil hoof.
And as I sat at the computer, after turning around,
on the screen came Fitzgerald, with a leap and a bound.

He is dressed in his best suit, and since he had spoke, his clothes are all tarnished with mirrors and smoke.
His eyes, how they twinkle, his dimples how merry, his followers all cheer him, as he stands with the jury.
A briefcase of files he has flung on his back, and he looks just like Santa opening his pack.

Yet, with a wink of his eye and a twist of his head, he soon gave me to know that I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work, and filed the indictments for many a jerk.
Then he sprang to his limo, and to his team gave a whistle, and away they all flew, like a patriot missile.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, “Happy Fitzmas to all and to all a better night!”:hi: