Twas the week before Halloween and all through the...

Not sure if anyone has done this before but...

T'was the week before Halloween and all through the house, not a creature was sleeping, not even the mouse. All the haunt walls where put up with the utmost in care in hopes that they'll stay up and not blow down or tear. The skeletons were all nestled all snug in their crypts searching the Halloween forum for last minute tips.
And mama in her Kerchief and I in my cap, just ate some brains for our long winter dirt nap. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, the dragon was loose and so was the mad hatter 8^o 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 new fallen blood, Gave the luster of madness to objects below; When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sick little sleigh thing , dragging eight tiny dead deer, With a little old driver, with sickle and saws, I knew in a moment it must be Santa Claws.
More rapid than vultures his curses they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and call'd them by name: "Now! Thrasher, now! Crasher, now! Prancer and Vixen, "On! Vomit, on! Putrid, on! Dungeon and Prison; "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 castle-top the curses they flew, With the sleigh full of props — and Santa Claws 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 it came with a bound: He was dress'd all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnish'd with ashes and soot; A bundle of tools was flung on his back, in hope there would be heads for him to detach.
And he look'd like a peddler 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, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wraith.
He had a thin face, and a little round belly That shook when he laugh'd, but sometimes made smelly's:
He was evil and gruff, almost jolly for an elf, And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I had something to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And he stole all my props oh man what a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose he flipped me the bird and up the chimney he rose.
He sprung to his hurst, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew, like the blast of a missile: But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight —
Happy Halloween to all, and to all a good night.