A Visit from the Suff: a Christmas Special

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and up on the shelf,

Just next to a candle, sat one little elf.

Assigned to scare children, he felt very glum,

As surveillance felt icky right down to his tum.

Just then he saw something hiding right near the tree,

A shadow? A monster? Oh, what could it be?

A pond of black water? Some sort of a ghost?

The elf thought of running, but dared not leave his post.

Then the shadow took form, and the elf quaked with fear,

For he realized the terrible Suff had come here!

Its legs were too short, its arms were too long,

Then it opened its horrible mouth in a song!

Or it tried to, at least, but the Suff could not sing.

Not a note, not a tune; not one single thing.

The Suff knew then it was cursed, doomed forever to roam,

Without ever a song, without ever a home,

And it moaned in despair on that dark Christmas eve,

Until the elf on the shelf said, “Oh, would you believe

It just started snowing! Outside there, just look!

Let’s watch it together; you can sit on this book.”

So together they watched, the elf and the Suff,

The snow falling lightly, in flake and in puff,

For that one night, the Suff did not take its prey,

Why this is so, the elf couldn’t quite say.

But at any rate, he surely was glad that it didn’t,

If the Suff wouldn’t fight, he too wouldn’t begin it.

So as he watched the snow falling by soft candlelight,

He thought to himself, “…And to all, a good night.”

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Editorial note: the idea for this poem came from the following note by Kim H:

I hope everyone has a good holiday, however you celebrate.

Until next time,

Michael