Happy Christmas
Happy Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a Beauty was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The Lipsticks were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Serums danced in their heads.
And MAC in her ‘kerchief, and OPI in my cap,
Had just settled our Facemasks for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window with my Beauty Flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The Gloss on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to Lashes below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Miniature Cleanser, and eight tiny reindeer.

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

“Now Elemis! now, Melvita! now, L’Oreal and Dior!
On, Givenchy! On, Chanel! on, on Jo Loves and Glamcor!
To the top of the porch! 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 the sleigh full of Clarins, and Tilbury too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Tom Ford came with a bound

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his pockets were stuffed with products from Boots.
A bundle of Origins he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his Varnish how merry!
His Rouge was like roses, his Gloss 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.

A tube of NARS primer he held tight in his teeth,
Phyto Shine Mist encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was Chubby and plump, a right jolly old E.L.F,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A Blink of his eye and a twist of his Bedhead,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings with Magic Cream for a perk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose, 
With a handful of Ojon, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave Olay,
And away they all flew to the dawn of the day.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“A Beautiful Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

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