(reposted from Sue’s original on Dec 25, 07)
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