‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a client was stirring, not even those who grouse;

The files were stored in cabinets with care,

In hopes that signed offers would soon be there;

The agents were nestled all snug in their beds;

While visions of happy home-owners danced in their heads;

And Bob B. in his pajamas, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a much-needed winter’s nap,

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 green grass below,

Gave a luster of midday to objects, and staff, below,

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But a thousand new yards signs and fresh BD Homes gear,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he must be Greg Wootan, not St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles our coursers they came,

And I whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now, Paige! now, Chris! now Martin and Tom!

On, Eric! on, Dan! on, David and Don!

To the tops of the buildings! to the crest of the wall!

Now furnish this new branding, these signs to install!”

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the officetops the coursers they flew

With a truck full of goodies, and illuminated insignias too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The drilling and placement of each little screw.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down to the lobby the team came with a bound.

They were dressed in bright blue, from their ‘doos to their feet,

And their clothes were all ruffled from the strain of victorious defeat;

Boxes of collateral they had flung on their backs,

And they looked like saviors opening their packs.

My eyes—how they twinkled! my smile grew merry!

These were the gifts of independence, as sweet as a cherry!

Each website and sheet was wrapped with a bow,

And with these sparkling tools at that moment I did know;

That we had done it – our independence was complete,

And homes all over SoCal will cherish our professional Realtor fleet;

With porcelain smiles and honorable hearts,

We will serve our clients with integrity and smarts.

I awoke Bob Bennion with childlike glee,

And informed him of our brokerage’s great victory;

With a Cheshire cat grin and nod of his head

We knew this holiday season we had nothing to dread;

For our agents had stood with us and kept to their work,

Without so much as a hiccup, a stumble, a jerk,

And all the while we whittled, as grindstone met nose,

Our family stuck by us, through uncertain tides they rose;

With grateful tidings we thank you for your loyalty and trust,

For standing by us as steadfast as an anchor whose chains fail to rust,

And wish holiday blessings to you and your loved ones true,

For making our company great, through and through.

With sappy sentiment and heartfelt proclaim,

Bob and I wish you a Merry Christmas, even if this poem is a bit lame!