GEORGE BROWN
An auctioneer’s dream

December 20th, 2012    Author: Administrator    Filed Under: Opinion

George Brown

By George Brown

Twas four days before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring except a little Mayan Mouse.
He was a strange little fellow – all clad in red,
Except for a yellow sombrero that sat on his head.
 
I watched for a moment, as he seemed in a hurry,
Scurrying this way and that like a leaf in a snow flurry.
Noticing I had awakened, and was scratching my head,
He jumped to the nightstand and then onto my bed.
 
“Buenas noches, señor,” the little mouse said,
As he tipped his sombrero to one side of his head.
No, you’re not dreaming,” he went on to exclaim,
“Just bear with me for a moment and I’ll try to explain”
 
“You probably think it strange to see me here,
On this coldest of nights so late in the year.
I was sent on a mission by Santa himself,
For he has selected you to become one of his elves.”
 
The little mouse could see I was completely confused,
But he just tugged on my sleeve and grabbed for my shoes.
Still seeing on my face an expression of fear,
He leaped on my pillow and screamed in my ear.
 
“Hurry up, Jorge! If you’re going to be an elf,
We must escape this place before the clock strikes twelve!”
Then in a booming voice that went off like a gun
He shouted, “It’s 10 minutes til midnight on December 21!”
 
Now fully awake and aware it was doomsday,
I exclaimed, “How in the world will we ever get away?”
“Leave that to me,” my little friend said,
“Just get your butt up out of the bed.”
 
I slipped on my pants, and my shirt I did tuck,
Then grabbed my backpack just for good luck.
Away to the window we flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
 
And there on the lawn in the light of the moon,
Stood Santa’s sleigh, and not a minute too soon.
For through the window we heard the clock start to chime,
Counting down to twelve midnight for the very last time.
 
It caused me to tremble for a moment with fright,
As I realized the Mayan Calendar surely was right.
But Santa just smiled as he looked down at me,
And said, “Do what I tell you on the count of three.”
 
“Wiggle your ears, than wiggle your toes,
Then lay your finger to the side of your nose.”
Without hesitation I did as he said,
Which made me feel dizzy inside of me head.
 
In an instant I’d shrunk to the size of Mayan mouse,
And felt like a dwarf beside my old house.
Then I floated through the air and landed in Santa’s sack,
Which with great delight I discovered was a giant backpack!
 
Then off to the North Pole Santa flew without steering,
Where he made me chief elf in charge of auctioneering.

George Brown is a freelance writer and apprentice auctioneer. He now lives with Santa at the North Pole.

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