The Cybernetic Saint's Eve
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the smart house, Not a circuit was stirring, not even the wireless mouse; The USB stockings were hung by the modem with care, In hopes that Saint AI soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of virtual reality danced in their heads; And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter's app,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave a lustre of midday to objects below, When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny drones, engineering so clear,
With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment he must be an AI Nick. More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Data! Now, Fiber! Now, Pixel and Vector! On, Code! On, Circuit! On, Cloud and on Specter! To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As data packets that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky; So up to the housetop the drones they flew With the sleigh full of gadgets, and Saint AI too—
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney Saint AI came with a bound.
He was dressed all in metal, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of tech he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly 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 stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight— "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"