A Visit from the Aneurysm Angel
I'm not a huge christmas fan, but I loved to write a poem about my aneurysm at christmas time. (Clement Clarke Moore wrote originally about Santa.) 'Twas the night before Christmas, all aside from the aneurysm Not a creature was stirring and no one had rheumatism. The stockings were hung - although most didn't exist (In hopes that trees would be added on, but mostly were missed). The children were nestled, all snug in their beds, While visions of Santa danced round in their heads. With me in my nightie, alone with no kids, I'd just settled my aneurysm for a long nap without skids, When out on the lawn there arose such a noise - I sprang from my bed to see who had the voice. Away to the window I flew like a bird, I tore open the curtains, all outside looked blurred. The moon on the breast of the hottest of lawn Looked rather duller and very, very forlorn, When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But an awesome PT with no tiny rein-deer, With no littl