Twas the night before Christmas, and across the ward
Tiptoed a nurse with her torch and clipboard
The IV’s were hung by the bedsides with care
In hopes that the on-call soon would be there
The patients were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of their own homes danced through their heads
The nurse in her tunic, making not a peep
Willing the patients to drift off to sleep
When from across the ward there arose such a clatter
That she sped down the hall, to see what’s the matter
Accross the bay, she flew like a flash
To look for the source of the almighty crash
The moon through the windows fell on the newly creased sheets
Of a curiously quiet patient ‘sleeping’ beneath
When what to her bewildered gaze did appear
But a trail of breadcrumbs, guilty and clear
With a sigh and a knowledge so certain and glum
She knew that the gingerbread surely was gone
But all was not lost, for she’d been here before
And later she’d dip into her secret store
Merry Christmas Everyone
Becky's Book Blog 