T’was the night before Christmas, and all through the house,

Not a kindle was stirring, nor even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the fire with care

In hopes that books would soon appear there.

*

The bibliophiles nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of fairy-tales danced in their heads.

Stories of heroes and villains and such,

And rescuing fair maidens from a dragon’s clutch.

*

Or vampires, and fairies; witches and wizards;

The Fellowship of the Ring fighting through a blizzard.

Romantic tales of getting the girl;

Or thrillers, and bloodshed for diamonds and pearls.

*

All types of stories and genres of book,

Read for the love of an exciting hook.

Oh Santa, please, be a dear thing,

A new novel or two or three with you bring.

*

And in the morning what will you find?

A new box of stationary or machine to bind;

A retro typewriter or flashy new Mac;

Some brand-new notebooks and pens in a pack.

*

Some writer-themed clothing, a bookmark or two,

Any and all could be useful to you.

But the real present we all hope to see

Is something book-shaped under the tree.

*

Merry Christmas Bibliophiles xx

©Abigayle Blood