With Apologies to Clement Moore

Twas the night before Monday, and all through the boat,               
Not a creature was stirring, and all were afloat.                        
The dishes were done, the laundry was drying,
The canal boat day  was slowly goodbying.

The boaters were snuggled, all warm in their bed,
While visions of woolies danced in their heads.
Sandy in her eyeshade and Mike in his mask,
Slept peacefully with no thoughts of a task.

When out of the dark, there arose a loud BOOM,
And they sprang from their bed with visions of doom.
Exchanging stunned glances, with hopes for the best,
They hastened to look for any uninvited guests.


The light in the kitchen they hastened to use,
And the vision they saw gave them the blues.
Because what to their sleep dazed eyes should appear,
But a kitchen in chaos from explosions so near.

With a sweep of their eyes, and a groan from their lips,
They knew in a moment they had issues to fix.
So reacting in shock and feeling some pain,
The names of the fallen they were heard to proclaim:

Gone toaster, gone tea pot, gone coffee cake, new.
Gone mince tart, gone cornbread, and clean dishes, too.
From the top of the walls, to the floor at their feet,
All was covered with ginger beer sticky and wet.

As fermentation its gasses creates,
The container at sometime is destined to break.
And that evening, without further ado,
At two A.M. the bottles they blew.

So dripping and trickling they heard on the floor,
And they knew at that moment they faced a huge chore.
Resolutely their backs they turned on their bed,
Reinforcing their resolve for the job ahead.

Armed with buckets and mops and cleaning cloths, too,
They mopped and they wiped everything within view.
 Many buckets of water, many cleaning rags new,
 Were needed in working to the stickiness subdue.



The counters were wiped. The dishes were rinsed.
And floors mopped once more of sticky foot prints.
Garbage bags they did fill with all the debris,
Including a tea pot not all in one piece.

The seconds they ticked on, the minutes they passed,
And before they knew it more than an hour elapsed.
Most amazing of all the events of that night,
They exchanged not a word in anger or spite.

They worked like a team, no blame did they cast,
And through it all, no Irish tempers did flash.
Once their work they had done, and all was put right,
They hastened once more in their bed to abide.

Covers, eyeshades and masks again they did don,
Finally, from bow to stern, all was again calm.
Before the first rays of the sun could be seen
Inside the canal boat all  was serene.

From this day forward they both have now vowed
No fermenting of beverages will be allowed.
Instead a return to their tried and their true,
Can they offer a martini or manhattan to you?