'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

No news crews, no bloggers,
 not even a tweet.
The stockings were filled up
 with hand-me-down gifts,
A sign that this bear market
 is still one of thrift.
At home, tucked in bed,
 bankers counted their blessings,
While the fragile economy
 left everyone guessing.
And deadlines completed,
 I set down my pen,
Until January 4th,
 when we publish again.
When outside the office,
 I heard a great crash,
And filled with alarm,
 to the window I dashed,
To see Santa in red
 on a reindeer-drawn sleigh

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