The Night Before Christmas - MB and Vintage Bike Style

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shop,
Nothing was moving, not even the mop.
My workbench sat so empty and bare,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there.

The bicycles were nestled all snug on their racks,
With visions of happy riders perched on their backs.
While I, in my greasy blue apron and cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When down in the bike room, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the shop I flew like an ace,
Tripped over my cat and fell flat on my face.

I stifled a curse meant for Shelby the cat,
And I muttered to no one, "I meant to do that,"
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Columbia-built sleigh and eight GEBE reindeer,

With an cyclist driving, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Whizzers, onward they came,
And he rung the bell twice and called them by name:

"On Colson! On Roadmaster, Monark and Schwinn!
On Columbia and Simplex, Huffman and Elgin!
To the top of the bike shop's accessory wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

As dry leaves that behind a new Super Twin fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So in through the window the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of bike stuff, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, at the bike shop, I saw on the tile
The prints in the snow of each whitewall Carlisle.
As I drew a deep breath, and was turning around,
From beneath the workbench, came St. Nick with a bound.

He was dressed like a biker from head to foot,
Tee-stirt and leathers, he looked like a hoot;
A bundle of Titans he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes - just like Delta lights! Dimples, how merry!
His cheeks like roses, nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth drew up like a handlebar,
And his beard was so white, it could be seen from afar.

He puffed on a pipe that hung loose from his mouth,
Standing next to an Zip Cycle I found down south.
He had a broad face and a belly (I found)
That shook like an Ingo - its wheels out-of-round.

He was chubby and plump, a jolly old chap,
I laughed to myself when I saw his Schwinn cap.
A wink of his eye as he passed near the door
Soon gave me to know I'd have balloon tires galore.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
He filled all bike racks; then turned with a jerk,
And leaving a Cushman he'd found on eBay,
And giving a nod, he returned to his sleigh.

He picked up the reins, rang two times on his bell,
And away they all flew like a bat out of h**l.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! KEEP 'ON RIDING! GOOD- NIGHT!"

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EZ Motorbike Dealer - Quarryville, PA