The holiday season will soon be upon us. Every year I get requests for my Gothic version of Night before Xmas.
For all those who want to borrow it this year, here it is and Blessed Holidays to all!
A Visit from St Nick, Vampire Style
Twas the night before Solstice, and all through the castle
Everybody was stirring, Lord, Lady and vassal
The stockings that hung by the chimney with care,
Were all made of fishnet, like St. Nick would care…
The Vamplings were practicing throwing psi balls
At Ma’s plasma light at the end of the hall;
Igor was looking for someone to bludgeon,
Ma and Pa played at BDSM in the dungeon,
When out in the courtyard arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
(then landed in a snowbank right on my ass!)
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Made me put on dark glasses to lessen the glow,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sleigh, pulled by bats and not tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
Dressed in black fur, A GOTHIC St. Nick!
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
Now, Bella! now, Blackie! Now, Akasha and Raven!
On, Hapsburg! On Vlad! On, Claudia, Archangel !
To the top of the turret! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the castle-top the bats they all flew,
With the sleigh full of black metal, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, on the roof we all heard an odd thing
The flutter and flapping of each little wing.
As I picked myself up, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in black fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of goodies he had thrown on the floor,
He went straight to the Absinthe left by the back door.
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
All in all dear Santa was quite a small wreck
But i hear too much Absinthe can have that effect
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
Mind if i Smoke? He asked with great pain.
I’m damned sick of the Elves STOP SMOKING Campaign.
So he lit up his pipe, with an odd little smell
Smoke and Fire he looked like the Santa from Hell
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave us to know Santa likes the undead;
He slurred a few words, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the fishnets; then turned with a jerk,
(we never did learn who this jerk fellow was…)
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his Bats gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
‘Darkest Christmas to all, on this longest of nights!’
Much Love from Lady CG