'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was gaming, not even a mouse;
The boosters were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that some promos or Mythics be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While Castles of Mad Kings spun in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down with Waterdeep app,
There came such a racket from down in the cellar
We both thought, at first, "it's Imperial Settlers!"
Away to the Games Room I flew fast-as-able
Tore open the cupboards and unfurl’d the table
The moon on those shelves of some new-varnished pine
Gave lustre of mid-day, made all boxes shine!
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a tiny wheeled truck, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so quick to manouvre,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Uwe!
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, in German, and called them by name:
"BALDERDASHER! DIE MACHER! now, SHEPHY and DIXIT!
On CAYLUS! CAVERNA! on RA and T-MYSTIC...Ah!
To the shelving for Euros! To the section for dice!
To the carved wooden box for Agricola (nice!)
As punched cardboard sprews that fill rubbish bins high
When caught by the chill wind, mount up to the sky,
So up through the ‘fillers’ the coursers they flew,
With a trolley for games, and St. Rosenberg too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard o’er the peace
The prancing and pawing of Friedemann Friese!
I let out a cry at his brightly-green quiff!
Down the chimney he came and, then, with a sniff.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his paws,
And his clothes? He had none – he was beastly of course!
A bundle of map boards were flung on his back,
And he named himself ‘Greench’ as he gave me a smack!
His eyes – how they twinkled with mischief un-hid
As he carried some boxes: Deluxe Power Grid
His droll little mouth broke at once into grins
Three copies of Fresh Fish, attach-éd like fins!
And Die drei Gebote was alight...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 coughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf
The Greench that stole Christmas, in spite of himself;
But a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a twerk,
And smiled – yes! He smiled! No longer so stern -
Gave me Friday and Folder and Fremde Federn;
He sprang to the sleigh and St Uwe gave whistle,
And away they both flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them exclaim, though I felt pretty whacked:
"Frohe Weihnachten euch allen, und allen eine gute Nacht!