"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a motor was roaring, not even a Honda.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of mufflers danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘helmet, and I in my boots,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s ride.
When out on the track there arose such a roar,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny dirtbikes.
With a tall young driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Ricky.
More rapid than eagles his bikes they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Honda! now,Yamaha! now, Kawasaki and Suzuki!
On, KTM! On, MX! on, on GNNC and WORCS!
To the top of the jump! to the top of the ramp!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As Riders that before the spectators fly,
When they meet with a ramp, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the dirtbikes they flew,
With the sleigh full of Parts, and Ricky Carmichael too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The skidding and whirrr of each little wheel.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney \Ricky came with a bound.
He was dressed all in gear, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and grease.
A bundle of Parts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a champ, 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 beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the exhaust it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old rider,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his helmet,
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 jerk.
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 a twist of the throttle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-ride!" "
