Down in the Conference Room there Arose such a Clatter
Adapted by Jana Kemp from Clement C
‘Twas the week before holiday vacations,
when all through the office
all creatures were fretting, fussing,
and sometimes even cussing.
The candy bowls near empty
at the reception desk and in the meeting room
reminding us of holiday weight gain
that we’ll all dread soon.
The children’s wish lists
echo in our heads
while we’re in the midsts
of accomplishing the to-do lists we dread.
All workers wish for a long winter’s nap
and a settling of brains
to keep from showing holiday strains.
When down toward the conference room
there arose such a clatter,
we sprang from our desks
to see what was the matter.
Away down the hall
we trotted in a flash
threw open the conference room doors
and ran to the windows in a dash.
The can-lights on the whiteboard
gave the room a glow,
eerie and wonderful,
like the room had filled with snow,
when what to our wondering eyes
should appear
but a heavily logo-adorned sleigh
and eight tiny reindeer with logo-adorned sashes,
with our CEO as the driver,
so flush and so quick,
we believed for a moment
we’d seen St. Nick.
More rapid than superman gets suited,
and more loudly than over quarterly returns we sigh,
the CEO’s sleigh-pullers came nigh
as he whistled and hooted,
and called them by name:
Now Crasher of the computers,
Now Dancer upon tables,
Now Parader of stories, and Vixen to us all!
On Comet the cleaner,
On Cupid the office lovelorn,
On Darn’d if it doesn’t beat all and Blitzen too.
To the top of the elevator stack, to the top of the wall!
Now, Dash away, Dash away, Dash away all.
As the recycled papers that before
the wild waste-managers fly,
when they meet with an obstacle,
reach for the sky.
So up to the building-roof
the fastest the eight flew,
with a sleigh full of office supplies
and our CEO too.
And then, in a twinkling,
we heard on the building’s roof
the prancing and pawing of each hoof.
As we drew in our heads
and turned around,
up out of the podium our CEO
came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur,
from his head to his boot,
and his clothes were all radiant
with good cheer and good office supply gifts down at each foot.
His eyes, how they sparkled!
His dimples, how cherry!
His cheeks were like cotton-candy,
And his nose lit up like a strawberry.
His droll little mouth
was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard of his chin
hadn’t been shaved for a week or more we know.
He had a happy face and a barely noticeable belly
That shook, when he laughed, like a plastic-single-serving of jelly.
When we saw him, all dressed up and jolly,
we laughed in spite of ourselves by golly.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave us to know that we had nothing soon to dread.
For he spoke some words but a few,
“the year has turned out better than feared for we’ve all been cleared to return to work”
then he turned with a jerk
and went straight back to work, leaving us with ours to do too,
and laying his finger aside his nose,
and giving a “go-be-merry” nod, behind the podium he froze.
Then sprang to the logo-adorned sleigh,
to his team gave a whistle,
and away they all flew,
like the down of a genetically improved-for-flight thistle.
And we heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight:
“Happy Holidays to All and to All a Good Night!
Last one out, remember to turn out the light!”
