St. Phrag Stork

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Well-Known Member
Dec 31, 2010
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Twas the night before Christmas
On top of my Sealy (mattress).
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mealy. (thanks to systemics)
The stocking were hung on the flourescents with care,
In hope that the Phrag Stork would soon be there.
My customers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of new compots danced in their heads.
And mamma in her kerchief, and I had my flab,
Had just settled our brains from a day in the lab.

When atop of the greenhouse there arose such a clatter,
I staggered from the bed to see what was the matter. (too much Bud?)
Away to the entrance I left my warm home,
Pulled open the screen door and threw up my foam. (Bud)
The moon on the breast of the newly fallen viscueen
Gave the luster of midday to objects I've seen.
When what to my bloodshot eyes made me hurl ( yrs. ago meant vomit)
But a miniature sleigh and 8 flying squirrel.
They made me their driver I felt like a dork
In only a moment I became the Phrag Stork.

More rapid than Screaming Eagles my coursers they came,( other slippers)
I whistled and shouted and called them by name.
"Now Magdalene, now Mother Rose, now Mystique, now Sorcery
On Afterglo, on Audrey, on Gracie, on Royalty".
To the top of the quonset, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all.
So up to the house tops the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of flasks, compots,
and thee Saint Phrag Stork too.
And then in a twinkling I heard on a shingle,
The clawing and gnawing of squirrels in a mingle.
As I held my pulsing head because of the sound,
Down the chimney St. Phrag Stork came to the ground.

He was dressed in his tyvec equipped with respirator and boots.
Dripping with physan and phyton, oh what a hoot!
A bundle of new listings he flung on his dogger.
I prayed he hadn't shaken the phraglings still with agar,
His eyes, how glazed over, skin rashes - flaming berry
The suit was defective, my he looked quite scary.
His droll little mouth was trembling like a hex,
I'd guess to wager it was the Orthenex.

The stump of a stogie held in his few teeth,
The smoke carrying tobacco virus circling his head like a wreath.
He was emaciated and pallor a right jolly old stork
He's be stuck here forever his engine lost all its torque.
A wink in his eye and a contortion of his head
Soon sensed me to know he should rather be dead.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
And filled all the stockings with more than one flask.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave the signal,
And away they all flew, in the fog it was dismal.

But I heard him exclaim through his stogie he blew,
"You think these are good, there's another listing for you!"

EXPLANATION : This was a gift last year to the Waunakee Phrag Stork Chuck Acker- keep cranking out the new phrag crosses!!!