Karate night before Christmas

My husband Arnie, and I wrote this little Karate parody of the classic
poem "Twas the night before Christmas".

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the dojo
Not a student was training, they were holding their hands low
Their shoes were all lined up by the wall with care
Knowing that soon Sensei would be there.
With their Gi (s) on sharp, and their obi (s) on tight,
They had just settled their minds for an oncoming fight.
When from the changeroom there arose such a clatter,
I sprang up from seiza to see what was the matter.
Over the mats I ran like a flash,
ran past the kicking bags, knocking over the stacks.
The sound of the intake of breath, and the row
of the students rushing past each other to know.
When what my astonished eyes did see
but the bare-footed feet of our Sensei indeed.
Such a stong presence, so fierce and so quick
I knew in a moment that Sensei was “ticked”.
More rapid than shurikens his commands they came.
He Kiai’d, and pointed, and called out by name,
“Now, Green belts, Now Blue belts, Now Yellow, and stripes
On Blacks, On Browns, On Purples and whites!
One hundred Manmakers from wall to wall
Now Dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
Huffing and puffing like little freight trains
Sweat pouring off them like Hurricane rain
Back and forth the students went running
Sensei said “We’re not here for the sunning!”
Then in a twinkling I heard Sensei say
“Quit the prancing, and pawing. That’s it.... Yame!”
As I drew in deep breaths, the room spinning ‘round
With an “Osu” of response, Sensei said “To the ground!”
He was dressed all in white with black belt on his waist
He said “Let’s do push ups! Let’s pick up the pace!!!”
His eyes- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
But our cheeks were like roses, flushed red like cherries.
His face showed no visible sign of fatigue
While the students knew that they were way out of their league
Each push up he did with much grace and power
While his students looked more like fallen down towers.
He turned over and started to do Fifty crunches,
the students were moaning and groaning in bunches.
He was lean, and mean, a fighting machine,
and I knew in a twist he could tear out a spleen.
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
soon gave me to know I had more training to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
with his shinai, he helped students not shirk,
and laying a finger under their nose
he said “This is the technique, here’s how it goes..”
He called for line up, and gave the commands
and we bowed, and “Osu’d”, and then we shook hands.
I heard him exclaim ere he walked out of sight.
“Make sure you train hard each and every night.”