'Twas the night before Christmas and all through Deep Space Nine's hull
Not a creature was stirring, not even a vole;
The weapons were charged on the Defiant with care,
In the fear that the Dominion soon would be there;
The Sisko's were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of baseball games danced in their heads;
And Leeta in her 'kerchief & Rom in his cap,
Had just settled their brains for a short off-shift nap--
When on the Promenade there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter
Away to the railing I flew like a flash,
Quick pulled out my phaser, teeth started to gnash.
The light on the drink of the fallen-down Morn;
Revealed the face of a being sad and forlorn
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With a little old driver so ugly that, heck;
I knew in moment it must be Grand Zek
More rapid than hawk bats his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
Now Business, now Profit, now Wall Street and Fortune
On Money, on Riches, on Jewels and Latinum
To the top of the bar! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the bar top the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of goods, the Grand Nagus too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The Prancing and pawing of each little hoof--
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down to the floor Nagus Zek beamed with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished from the stains of some root;
A bundle of goods he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled; his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the hairs of his lobes were as white as the snow;
A bottle of snuff he pulled open with teeth,
And the dust it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a round face and a little round belly
That shook when he cackled like grub beetle jelly.
He was bent over and short, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And stole all Quark's stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod through the transporter he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I hear him exclaim ere he drove out of sight
Please tune in Deep Space Nine every Saturday night.

gpb12/97

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This was a hard one to complete because the original poem is longer than typical song lyrics, and I wanted to keep a lot of the original wording, and just adapt it to Star Trek.

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