T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the shop
Not a vehicle was stirring, no leaking, not a drop.
Icy wrenches were hung by the toolbox with care,
Old metal faces at the garage door did stare.
The owners were nestled all snug in the house,
With visions of iron dancing about.
And in the cement stable the old ones took heart,
Hardly able to contain anticipation of new parts.
When out on the driveway with a familiar sound,
A delivery on schedule, good tidings abound!
The moon on the crest of two figures there,
Provided just enough light to see the words ‘handle with care’.
The parcel was unloaded and the bounty carried in,
Into the garage so the fun could begin.
When, what to my wondering eyes did appear,
The most curious occurrence in all my years.
A lowly shine from ringed headlights did glow,
And springs perched up higher as they did years ago.
The horn blew twice, signals clicked with joy,
Wipers flew across the windshield of that happy old boy.
Now I don’t expect you to take this with ease,
And I know there are a hundred ways to explain what I’ve seen,
But I’ll never forget what happened that night,
Merry Christmas to all, happy bolting and good-night!
