‘Twas the night of the Solstice, and all through the world
Not a creature was stirring, not even a squirrel.
The traps were all set by the chimney with fear,
For we knew that the Winter King soon would be here.
The children were huddled, too frightened to sleep,
They shivered and shuddered and made not a peep.
Mom had her katana, and I had my bat,
And there, back-to-back, in our bedroom we sat.
When out on the lawn there arose such a screaming,
I though that a nightmare I surely was dreaming.
Away to the window I ran like a terrier,
I threw back the curtains and peeped through the barrier.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a pallor like corpse-flesh to objects below.
When what, to my horrified eyes should arise
But eight dire wolves that came down from the skies,
They all pulled a chariot, a terrible thing,
And the being that drove it was the Winter King.
Like red-taloned bloodhawks his canids did land
And he shouted their names, a whip in his hand:
“Now Mangler, now Strangler, now Icemaw, now Hoary,”
On, Ripper, on, Reaver, on, Gnawer and Gory!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”
As damn’d souls that from the black hellmouth do sail,
As they rise from the earth with a piteous wail,
So up to the rooftop his horrors they flew,
With the grim Winter King, and the chariot too,
And then, as I listened, a sound gave me pause,
The clicking and tapping of thirty-two paws.
As I let out a moan, while I soiled my drawers,
The Winter King’s feet beat like drums on the floor.
He was dressed all in skins, and they reeked and they stank,
And his clothes were all bloody and slimy and rank.
A sack full of heads was flung on his back,
And he smiled at me, his lips and teeth black.
His eyes, how they glistened! His knuckles so hairy!
His cheekbones so haggard, his feet were so scary!
His hideous maw was encircled with slime,
And the footprints behind him were puddles of grime.
He gave me a leer, with his inky-black teeth,
And the stink of his breath circled him like a wreath.
He was withered and gaunt, a hideous beast,
And I gibbered and wailed, since my life soon would cease.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Turned my insides to jelly and filled me with dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
And killed my whole family, but saved me for last.
And using a cleaver to cut out my bowels,
He slipped up the chimney, as quiet as owls.
He leapt on his chariot, to his pack gave a holler,
And they went to the heavens where no man shall follow.
Then as I lay dying, I heard the King cry,
“Happy Solstice to all! NOW YOU’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”
