Christmas poem

It's that time again....and thanks to everyone for a wonderful year!

        Christmas Memories We Just Can't Let Go, V
             (St. Entropy and his Adherents)

'Twas the Night before Christmas, 'way past time to go:
All the parties were over, the curators aglow.
They'd brought in a tree, but the thing took a fall,
So herbarium sheets had been nailed to the wall
In the shape of a tree, decked with tinsel and lights:
Curators plus solvents keep me awake nights.
Stockings were hung from their ears with great care,
And some creature was stirring the punchbowl--beware!
I was eyeing the stuff as a source of great harm
When off went the sprinklers...the strobe...the alarm.
(If you want to see chaos from order reduced,
Just plug in a curator and let him get juiced.)
I couldn't say why, but I had a strange feeling
That the source of the problem had come through the ceiling
In red and white snowgear with reindeer and sleigh--
It looked like St. Nick had just joined the soiree.
He was tangled in wiring and sensors and pipe,
And his nose was lit up like a fruit overripe.
He was covered with fragments of fossils and casts,
But the Saint wasn't moving, at least not very fast.
Santa's arrival had caused toys to shatter
So he looked to our lab for some help with the matter.
He'd used our adhesives (which can't be undone)
And used far too much of them, every last one,
When he backed into antlers attached to a deer,
And the Claus levitated with all of his gear.
I spoke not a word, but I knew where to find
A solvent to handle adhesives (*all* kinds).
Away to the punchbowl I flew in a flash
And drew off a beaker of pure moonshine mash.
While keeping it safe from all flames and stray sparks,
I applied it to Santa (hard to do in the dark).
It worked like a charm and dissolved all the glue
(And odd bits of snowsuit, and collagen, too).
Then, laying a finger aside of his nose
(It stuck: I missed some of the glue, I suppose),
Santa arose through the fume hood, less hearty,
While I turned off the system and returned to the party.
I know he exclaimed ere he rose out of sight,
But I'll never know what 'cause his lips were glued tight.

---another community service by Sally Shelton and John Simmons

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                  Conservation DistList Instance 9:49
                Distributed: Thursday, December 14, 1995
                        Message Id: cdl-9-49-020
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