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'Twas the night before... (Stolen from the interweb)

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  • shawnolsen@aol.com
    Twas the night before Geocaching, when all through the streets Nothing was stirring, not even the geeks; The GPS?s were hung by the door with care, In hopes
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 16, 2011
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      'Twas the night before Geocaching, when all through the streets
      Nothing was stirring, not even the geeks;
      The GPS?s were hung by the door with care,
      In hopes that morning soon would be there;

      The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
      While visions of ammo boxes danced in their heads;
      And mamma in her shorts, and I in my Geo-cap,
      Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

      When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
      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 Volkswagen, and a Mercury Mountaineer,

      With a little old driver, so lively and free,
      I knew in a moment it must be Jeremy.
      More rapid than eagles his gadgits they came,
      And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

      "Now, eTrex! now, StreetPilot! now, eMap and Magellan!
      On, Mag 330! on Vista! on, Map 76 and Visor!
      To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
      They came across my lawn, one and all!"

      As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
      When they meet with an obstacle, and begin to cry,
      So up to the house-top like thieves they flew,
      With the box full of toys, and a log book, too.

      And then, in a cracking, I heard on the roof
      The dancing and pawing of each little hoof.
      As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
      Down the chimney, the cachers came with a bound.

      They were dressed all in green, from their head to his feet,
      And their clothes were all tarnished with ashes and not very neat;
      A box of toys they had carried in a sack,
      And they looted like a peddler on his way back.

      Their eyes -- how they twinkled! their dimples how red!
      Their cheeks were like roses, their breath dread!
      They drooled from their mouth down their chin,
      And their shirts were soaked from end to end;

      The stump of a pen they held tight in their teeth,
      As they logged their visit, near the wreath;
      They had a round little bellies,
      That shook, when they laughed like a bowl of jelly

      They were chubby and plump, a right jolly old crew,
      And I laughed when I saw them, in spite of what I knew;
      For, the coordinates had shifted from left to right,
      And they would surly be up all night;

      They spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
      Searching the house, then turned with a jerk,
      And searched the yard,
      And finally giving up, for, they knew, it was too hard;

      They sprang to their Jetta, and to their SUV,
      And away they all drove down the road to where I couldn?t see.
      But I heard them exclaim, as they drove out of sight,
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