Twas Christmas eve twilight, when all through the lab
Not a creature was stirring, not even a tech;
The maps and routes were all planned out with care,
To help St. Nicholas get from here to there;
The mapmakers were huddled all snug at their desks,
While visions of flight plans danced in their heads;
Santa’s cartographer in his ‘kerchief, his aide in a cap,
Had just settled down for a well-deserved nap,
When out from the printer there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their desks to see what was the matter.
Away to the monitors they flew like a flash,
And hurriedly checked out the North Pole weathersat.
The swirling cloudmass and new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of danger to the world map below,
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a storm that was brewing, and plenty to fear,
With a nod to his tech crew, so lively and quick,
The cartographer knew they must reroute St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his mappers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Jackie! now, Peter! now, Ashley and Tristan!
On, Connie! on Larry! on, Donald and Kristen!
To the GIS software! to the real-time weather feed!
Now map away! map away! map away all!”
The carographer frantically plotted a new path to fly,
While the reindeer stood expectantly, eyes turned to the sky,
So up on the launchpad the coursers they waited,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, the GIS techs came running
The new maps were printed, the disaster averted.
As Santa reached out his hand, and was turning around,
Down the hallway his cartographer came with a bound.
Santa was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And he looked just amazing in his shiny red suit;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler with a well-laden pack.
His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And he laughed with delight, as he reached out for the maps;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave the map team to know they had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his GPS,
He input the new directions; then turned back to the rest,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, placed his new maps up close;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But they heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”