By Gerard Braud
The poem, Twas the Night Before Christmas, is only 56 lines long. As writing goes, it’s pretty perfect. But we all know there are people where you work, who feel compelled to make edits, no matter how perfect your writing is. Maybe it’s the CEO or CFO, or an engineer, IT guy, accountant, doctor, or even the lawyer. Sure, they just want it to be more accurate and legally correct. But are all of those edits really necessary?
So for those of you who feel compelled to make edits, and to those of you who have been victimized by a red pen, I offer to you this special version of the poem, with edits. ©2018
Twas the Night Before Christmas With Edits
Twas the nocturnal period preceding the annual Christian festival, when throughout the domicile
No one of consequence was moving, including the rodents
Long socks receptacles were suspended near the thermal unit, with safety as a top priority
in expectation that a legendary Christian Bishop, born in the region of modern day Turkey, in or about 280 A.D., who was later Canonized by the Pope, would arrive post-haste
The humans below the legal age of majority, were reclined comfortably within their sleeping apparatuses
While apparitions of dehydrated fruit, filled their subconscious
And the maternal figure donning a headscarf, and I, in a consensual relationship, did likewise
Had just reached a state of extended hibernation
When in an external grassy zone, a ruckus occurred
I spontaneously ejected myself from my sleeping device, to evaluate the situation
Away to an opening in the wall I expedited myself
With vigor, I forcefully opened a set of protective panels
The satellite of the earth unified with the flakes of ice crystals
Gave the reflective quality of noon, to objects below
When, while visibly curious there appeared
A smaller than common vehicle of transport and eight proportional deer, common to subarctic regions
With a demure heavy equipment operator, so agile and prompt
I surmise instantly that it must be the aforementioned Saint
More rapid than birds of prey, the mammals came
And he exuded a high-pitched sound, then proclaimed their given names
You may Google the historic names if necessary, since corporate policy prohibits us from releasing names without consent… and because some of the names imply behavior that may be deemed as inappropriate or suggestive, and not in keeping with our policies regarding sexual harassment in the workplace
To the top of covered shelter protecting the entrance to our domicile
To the top of the vertical structure supporting the inner and outer cladding
Now run or travel somewhere in a great hurry, bolt, and/or gallop
As foliage void of moisture within a tropical cyclone, having winds exceeding 74 miles per hour
When they encountered structures that hindered forward progress, they accelerating upward
So up to the structure’s ridgeline the beast maneuvered
With the vehicle at capacity with objects of play; and the Bishop inside as well
And then like chimes, I heard on the ridgeline
The exaggerated movement, and clatter of horny feet
As I extracted my head from the framed opening, and was moving in a circular motion
Down the vertical channel for combustion gases, came the Saint, with great haste, void of OSHA required protective gear
His wardrobe consisted of natural mammal pets with hair still attached, covering his entirety, much to the protest of certain animal rights activist
The garments were discolored with combustion residue
A sum of replicas were suspended to the rear of his torso
And like a merchant of goods, he displayed all of his wares
His visual organs – how they reflected the light
His facial indentions exhibited great joy
His face just below his eye socket, was reminiscent of blooming thorn-filled plants; his nostril area like ripe, round fruit
His pursed lips, they provoked such dry amusement
And his unshaven facial hair was similar in color to the crystalized precipitation
The extension of a tobacco burning device was clinched within the enamel-coated structures of his jaw
And cancer causing carbon particles were visible in a circular shape
His facial structure was wider than it was tall
His spherical abdominal region
Vibrated upon guffaw, resembling a food basin at capacity with sweet, semisolid preserve
His weight-to-height ratio was disproportionate; while he correctly personified a character portrayed in a seasonal holiday movie classic starring Will Ferrell
And there was humor in his antics, despite my presence
A non-flirtatious closing one eye, and a rotation of his neck
Soon indicated he was friend and not foe and therefore there was no need to seek outside mutual aid
He remained silent and demonstrated a commendable work ethic
And he filled the long sock receptacles; then made a quick, sudden movement
And he placed his index digit beside his nostril trunk
And with acknowledgement, he ascended the combustion chamber vent
He extradited himself to his transport, then repeated the high-pitched sound
And away the individual and his mammals departed through a control ascent in the atmosphere, similar in nature to the seed disbursement mechanism of certain plants
But I was able to discern his verbal proclamation as he departed from vision
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night… despite the edits.
©2018 Diversified Media, LLC dba Gerard Braud Communications
Crisis communications and media training expert Gerard Braud, CSP, Fellow IEC is based in New Orleans. Organizations on five continents have relied on him to write their crisis communications plans and to train their spokespeople. He is the author of “Don’t Talk to the Media Until…”
More crisis communications articles:
Please Pick Me to be Your Media Trainer
The Biggest Lie in Crisis Communications
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