DIYGuy
Gold Member
'Twas the night before Christmas, the sun had just set.
I turned on my PC for some TractorByNet.
The snowpants were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that they'd dry before snow filled the air.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
they only dreamed of using their sleds.
And wifey asleep in front of the tube,
Me finding pictures of big jiggling b...
(Ooops Wrong site, how'd that get in here)
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair, tripped, then kersplatter.
On the way to the window, I passed the side table,
My progress halted by the black power cable.
I got to the window and looked at the snow.
I should tune up the blower, there's nothing to mow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
a tractor, heated cab, it might be a Deere.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
It couldn't be Junkman, it must be St. Nick.
He drove through the yard and over the shrubs,
Spewing hydro-fluid, it might kill the grubs.
I heard him yelling with all of his might
"I trading you in on a Jinma tonight!"
He crashed through the porch and then my new wall,
"Just drop the box blade, then you will stall!"
As he came to stop, he proclaimed on this night,
"It's never done that, something's not right."
I showed him a thread on that very same state,
He had put the wrong lube in hole number eight.
The back of the tractor was loaded with toys,
Some for the girls and some for the boys.
We talked for while, I got his advice,
Measure the easement not once, twice, but thrice.
Our time had come to an end far too soon,
His silhouette round under the blue harvest moon.
He climbed on his tractor, and turned the big key,
Starting it seemed was just not to be.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the barn,
The trusty BX spinning a yarn.
It was telling of feats of super strength tractors,
Starring itself, ignoring detractors.
St. Nick climbed aboard his trusty new steed.
The BX was off for it's next super deed.
Towing the toys, all 9 billion tons,
Three stumps, two logs, and camera for fun.
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 smoke 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 elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
(Why edit the original when it describes, __________. Exercise for reader)
The BX was moving under that load,
And right after it graded 9 miles of new road.
St. Nick was in heaven, he'd not known such joy,
Could be given to men using this toy.
He sprang to his feet waving his finger at me,
I guess I should service my new HST.
Then I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"
I turned on my PC for some TractorByNet.
The snowpants were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that they'd dry before snow filled the air.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
they only dreamed of using their sleds.
And wifey asleep in front of the tube,
Me finding pictures of big jiggling b...
(Ooops Wrong site, how'd that get in here)
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair, tripped, then kersplatter.
On the way to the window, I passed the side table,
My progress halted by the black power cable.
I got to the window and looked at the snow.
I should tune up the blower, there's nothing to mow.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
a tractor, heated cab, it might be a Deere.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
It couldn't be Junkman, it must be St. Nick.
He drove through the yard and over the shrubs,
Spewing hydro-fluid, it might kill the grubs.
I heard him yelling with all of his might
"I trading you in on a Jinma tonight!"
He crashed through the porch and then my new wall,
"Just drop the box blade, then you will stall!"
As he came to stop, he proclaimed on this night,
"It's never done that, something's not right."
I showed him a thread on that very same state,
He had put the wrong lube in hole number eight.
The back of the tractor was loaded with toys,
Some for the girls and some for the boys.
We talked for while, I got his advice,
Measure the easement not once, twice, but thrice.
Our time had come to an end far too soon,
His silhouette round under the blue harvest moon.
He climbed on his tractor, and turned the big key,
Starting it seemed was just not to be.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the barn,
The trusty BX spinning a yarn.
It was telling of feats of super strength tractors,
Starring itself, ignoring detractors.
St. Nick climbed aboard his trusty new steed.
The BX was off for it's next super deed.
Towing the toys, all 9 billion tons,
Three stumps, two logs, and camera for fun.
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 smoke 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 elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
(Why edit the original when it describes, __________. Exercise for reader)
The BX was moving under that load,
And right after it graded 9 miles of new road.
St. Nick was in heaven, he'd not known such joy,
Could be given to men using this toy.
He sprang to his feet waving his finger at me,
I guess I should service my new HST.
Then I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"
