Author Unknown
'Twas the night before Christmas, when out on the lake,
'Twas the night before Christmas, when out on the lake,
All the bass were a studying all the lures not to take.
The chug bugs, the senkos, the spinnerbaits, too,
Were some to look out for, these but a few.
While back at my house, I was snuggled in bed,
As visions of big ones, danced about in my head.
A cast to some stickups, a cast to some weeds,
Produced bass after bass, it was a Mecca indeed.
I arose in the morning, tree lights twinkling bright,
My eyes full of dream dust, I was quite a sight.
I gathered the family, and sat them down near,
For the tale of the bass trip, I wanted all them to hear.
I regaled them quickly, with all that I caught,
The big ones, the little ones, the lunkers I fought.
Their eyes were like saucers, as they listened with glee,
But their thoughts were on presents, beneath our great tree.
As I finished my tale, I heard from my wife,
Merry Christmas, dear family,
And George, get a life.
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