‘Twas the night before Christmas when all down my street
All the neighbors were stirring, and it smelled like roast meat.
The music was hot and the speakers were booming
The dancers were spinning and stepping and zooming.
The children were playing and snacking on sweets
And viejitas spread gossip and viejitos did sleep.
At last the lechón, oh so tender and tart, came out from the box, a sublime work of art.
The yuca and mojo so soft and delicious in spite of the fact it is barely nutritious.
The rice and black beans and maduros so sweet let know everybody it was now time to eat.
The street was alive with the sounds of elation made louder and louder by too much libation.
When talk turned to homelands and long ago nations
The words sputtered forth with great gesticulations.
As tempers ignited and battle lines formed before any friendships were hopelessly torn
The host and the hostess strode into the storm and blew out the party like Gabriel his horn.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a Noche Buena.
Noche Buena
