‘Twas the Night Before (a Fetters Construction) Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the site,
Everyone’s working, the schedule is tight!
The night lights are burning, the deadline is near,
“We’re under the budget!” Eric yells with a cheer.
The owners are nestled all snug in their shops,
While knowing the quality, of course, will be tops!
A merry grand opening, a ribbon to snip,
“With Fetters it’s right!” Nick offered a tip.
Joe’s in his hardhat, and Doug’s in his place,
Telling the owner, we’ve now won the race.
Craig’s finished the numbers, the budget assured,
But hark, what’s that noise, that we all now have heard?
On the top of the roof, of the building we see,
A man, dressed in red, with a green Christmas tree.
“It’s the 24th day, my friends Christmas Eve,”
Yelled a jolly old elf…could it be Steve!
His laughter contagious, his smile like a clown,
And we laughed with our friend, well until he fell down.
We’re without a Santa, we now must replace,
The current St. Nick, from today’s Fetters base.
For Steve surely knew what his future may bring,
Who’ll lead all the elves, who’ll help them all sing.
So a clue did he write, from the roof in the snow,
(what method to draw, only Steve needs to know.)
The search is now on, yes now through the night,
The moonlight is glistening; it helps in the plight.
To find a Kris Kringle, the challenge is boss,
A Fetters team member, THE NEW SANTA CLAUS!
Most likely not Eric, or Nick, or Craig L.?
No planets aligned, no ringing the bell.
But what about George, maybe Tim, are they called?
George has no white beard, and Tim, well he’s bald.
So could it be Paige, a marketing pro,
Or Austin, (he drives a cool car, don’t you know)
Or Beth, she could handle a room full of deer,
Ah what for our Terry, he’s got Christmas cheer!
Amber’s contends, a smile always seen,
And Sam, she’s an option, she’s never been mean.
Denise is a choice, another great hint,
He’s happy, and jolly, with a beard, (but not Clint).
He dashes, and prances, while roaming the halls,
The general consensus is it’s not Carl Swalls.
Some say it’s quite certain, and with little tryin’,
Our General S…but for sure it’s not Brian.
No challenges stated, a probable truce,
He’s new, and he’s handy, but no, it’s not Bruce.
David R’s in a truck, like a gleaming blue sleigh,
David H always smiling - at the end of the day.
What of this Bart Foster, after all, his hair’s white,
But red tights and white fur, well with him, that’s not right.
The children may cry if they see good ole’ Dan’a,
When he enters the room with his red-checked bandana.
Or possible Jared, his surname is Shis…
After all, when you say it, it does rhyme with Kris,
And it’s not Mr. Royer, with his chosen first label,
Not even Larry D., though he’s perfectly able.
Or Morgan, some say he could sit in the chair,
Or Tim, after all, it’s a fact he has hair.
Parks always contends, is he one that is sent?
The concrete contender is definitely Trent.
With a beard on his chin, possibly browned from the soot,
No, it’s not Kyle either, though truly a hoot.
Our Santa’s not Lynn, he’s not the top leader,
Could it be? Maybe so? It’s neither our Pieter.
Yes we give pickles, and sometimes green gherkins,
But the FCI Santa is neither Bob Perkins.
So who is this Santa, who is St. Nick?
Who brings us such joy, who knows the gift trick?
His eye’s, how they twinkle, there’s dimples as well,
His cheeks are all rosey, (from what we won’t tell).
A bundle of presents, he threw in his truck,
No bells, nor no reindeer, just some tools, that’s for luck.
So who’s the new Santa, the vision is blurry,
Saving our Christmas, we must now all hurry.
Let’s make a decision, we now tell the jury,
The jolly old elf is rightly…Mitch Stuery!
So children, don’t worry, My Man Mitch we all cheer,
As he plays with his toys, and he rides his reindeer.
In his Ford, he proclaims, as he rolls out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all….and to all a good night!”