Twas the Night Before Christmas in Trading IT

(Written as a humorous summary when we moved into a new building at work in 2012)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all across the floor
Not a creature was stirring, not a badge reader door;
The stockings were hung by the wall lockers with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The laptops were nestled all snug in their docks,
Quite safe and secure due to proper use of cable locks;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my fleece,
Had just settled down for the end-of-year change freeze.

When behind the freight elevator doors there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my anchored desk to see what was the matter.
Through dynamic seat neighborhoods I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen dew
(Yes, dew, for in Houston's winter climate it's the best we can do)
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

Now, DODD-FRANK! Now, BLUEPRINT! Now, EDGE and HSSE
On, ITSO! On PMO! On IM/IT and DELIVERY!
To the top of the quartiles! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle; mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of IPFs, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the elevator St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of goods he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a catered-meeting-lunch-deliveree 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 of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
But he knew not to smoke within twenty-five feet;
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,
Reassured me that this visit had been properly budgeted.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
For an SM7 ticket or WBS code, he never did ask!
Upon filling the stockings with plenty of loot,
He stopped by the energy hub to snack on the complimentary fruit.

He sprang past the wall murals, to the revolving egress he flew
But, unlike a normal chimney, this fancy exit was new.
And I heard him exclaim, as he tried to leave the floor,
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL! Please step into the door???