I wish I could take credit for the following poem, but alas, it’s not mine. This Christmas Eve, I give you an ode to the Gun Control Lobby, written by a fellow firearms enthusiast. Enjoy!
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the village,
the guns were all locked up they’re not a right but a privilege.
The crack heads and thieves all danced in the street,
In hopes that unarmed victims they would soon meet.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of escaping socialism danced in their heads.
the wife in the buff, and I in my tin foil hat,
Had just settled down for a long winters nap.
When behind the 2×4 deck there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what’s the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
pulled down the blast shield, unlocked the bars, and peered out the sash.
The moon on the hood of the black SUV,
gave me the feeling antis where coming for me.
More rapid then eagles they kicked down the door,
traumatized my kids and pushed the wife to the floor.
Now, Miller! Now, Cukier! Now Duceppe and McGuinty!
On Soros, on Layton, on Obama, and Iggy.
From the guns in the safe to the gold hidden in the wall,
they confiscated, confiscated, confiscated all.
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
my freedoms were stolen in the blink of an eye.
But then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
the prancing and pawing, possibly a reindeer hoof.
Just as the socialists were beating me down,
from the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, and well armed what a hoot,
behind him the Nuge and Chuck Norris to boot.
His eyes how they twinkled while racking his slide,
the grabbers were left with nowhere to hide.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
the smoke from his guns circled his head like a wreath.
Duceppe became teary and soiled his clothes,
as St. Nick pointed his colt at the bridge of his nose.
He spoke not a word as he went about his work,
slapping the stupid out of Count Iggy the jerk.
His droll little mouth drawn up like a bow,
as he held Layton’s face in yellow snow.
McGuinty and Soros both danced to the beat,
as the Nuge used his pistols to shoot at their feet.
Up snuck Obama and swung his peace prize,
but got gored by a reindeer of extra large size.
Hillary Clinton did hiss and shake fist,
Hoe Hoe Hoe pointed Santa your next on this list.
Now Mayor Miller tried running but got it worst of them all,
as Santa did slough foot him causing a fall.
Out came his footing and on some ice he did slide,
right into a flag pole, one leg on each side.
Wendy got tazed by this jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw this in spite of myself.
His cheeks were like roses when he gave back our guns,
the antis and socialists had no choice but to run.
Now our stockings are stuffed with primers and brass,
CCW permits and a rifle range pass.
I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
Merry Christmas to all keep up the fight.