T'was the night before Irene when all through the marina
Not a creature was stirring, not even a herring (OK you find something that rhymes with marina!)
The fenders were all hung from the rails with care
In fear that Irene would soon be near
The extra lines all run and taught
All the
canvas down so as to be shredded naught.
The sailors all nestled sung in their berths
While visions of flailing
sails danced in their heads
And momma in her willies and I in my oilies
Had just settled down for a long awaited nap
When out on the
dock there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my berth to see what was the matter!
Away to the
hatch I flew like a flash,
Tore open the drop boards and threw open the
hatch.
The moon on the breast of the white caps
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects abeam,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature
dinghy, and eight tiny weathermen,
With a little bald driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Jim Cantore.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dr Lyons! now, Stephanie Abrams! now, Mike Seidel and Elliot!
On, Punxsutawney Phil on Al Roker! on, Matt Lauer and Katie Couric!
To the top of the fly bridge! to the top of the mast!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry
rum casks that before the wild
hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the cabin-top the coursers they flew,
With the
dinghy full of
rum, and Jim Cantore too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the
deck
The tripping and stumbling of each little foot.
As I drew in my
head, and was turning around,
Down the hatch Jim Cantore came with a bound.
He was dressed all in yellow slickers, from his
head to his foot,
And his rain
gear was all tarnished with
oil and
diesel soot;
A cask of rum he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a wino just opening his brown sack.
His eyes -- how they drooped! His bald how shinny!
His cheeks were like roses, his runny nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a
knot,
And the shine of his bald crown was as gleaming with rain;
The stump of a cigar he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a
hurricane;
He had a drawn face and a little round
beer belly,
That shook, when he coughed like a bowlful of jelly
fish.
He was loud and arrogant, a right annoying 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;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his
work,
And filled all the cups; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger inside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the hatch he rose;
He sprang to his dinghy, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like a
halyard in a blow.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
GOOD LUCK IN THIS **** AND TO ALL SAFE NIGHT!