2014

Never having donbe a Doctor Who story, we thought it was about time (get it?).

T’was the night before Christmas and we all sat waiting
For the Doctor Who special, we were anticipating.
BBC America was the station of choice,
And no one had a dissenting voice.

My wife and I snuggled there on the couch,
And I was quite happy, not Oscar the Grouch.
When what to our wondering eyes did appear,
A huge power outage and we said, “Oh dear.”

At that point we rose and trundled off to bed
Where visions of sugarplums could dance in our heads.
My head hit the pillow and I was out like the lights,
Where I dreamt of quests and castles and knights.

And after a while we heard a strange sound,
I got out of bed to go look around.
A whooshing noise, so familiar yet strange,
Had one of us forgotten to turn off the range?

There in the living room appeared a blue box.
I stood for a moment, my feet felt like rocks.
Out stepped a man with curly hair and long scarf,
The dog stood beside me and simply went “Arf.”

He swept over to me, the gesture quite grand,
He smiled at me and stuck out his hand.
“The chimney’s not usable, you didn’t open the flu.
By the way, I’m the Doctor, Who are you?”

I stood dumbfounded.  I stammered and stuttered,
When I was done, not a word had I uttered.
“Cat got your tongue?  Or was it the nog?
Or maybe it just was this silly old dog.”

“You shouldn’t be surprised. You were expecting guests.
Or do you leave cookies and milk for any old pests?
But come.  There’s a problem with Santa, you see.
Something important happened back in 2003.”

He pointed to the box, and I said, “What is this?”
“It’s the TARDIS, of course, no, not something Swiss.
Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.
It’s for putting things back in their own time and place.”

I stepped through the door and was quite aghast,
“It’s bigger on the inside.” I exclaimed at last.
“Of course it is.  It’s Time Lord tech.
It’s what keeps us from winding up in a wreck.”

He pushed some buttons and threw some switches,
I thought I had better hold onto my britches.
“We’re off to fix something in the time stream,
Something that bent the whole bloody scheme.”

The TARDIS it vibrated, and then it seemed tame,
The Doctor turned, and he whistled, and called out some names.
“Come Hartnell and Troughton, Pertwee, and Baker,
Also, Davison, McCoy, McGann, before which came Baker.”

Hurt and Eccleston, Tennant, and Smith.
And even Capaldi ended up on the list.
Some in the future, some in the past.
An array of Time Lords he had amassed.

We appeared again, a different Christmas Eve,
And I wondered what else he hid up his sleeve.
It was a different year, of that I could see,
Based on the ornaments which hung from the tree.

But he pointed one out, a weird shaped round crate,
That when we went near, said “Exterminate!”
“I’ll grab it and send it to the void, you’ll see.
That’s the one that shot Santa this night, in the knee.”

“Ever since then, he’s had a horrible limp. 
In the holiday plan it put quite a crimp.
He was always one off on the things he’d give out,
He’d leave the wrong stuff, and cause people doubt.”

I wanted to understand, and I sounded quite gruff.
“Ahh, it’s just wibbley-wobbley, timey-wimey stuff.”
With that he ushered me back into the box,
And settled me down for one of his talks.
 
“Things happen for a reason through all space and time,
But the reason can be changed to make it all rhyme.
We fixed something important for the whole human race.
And we will accept it, with a warm embrace.”

He returned me to home, where the lights were back on.
I looked outside, it soon would be dawn.
I looked at the things that were under the tree.
They were different from what I did previously see.

I was surprised, as things looked so much better.
No more scary stuff like that horrid sweater.
We had made a change, that much was definite.
I guess with time travel, the possibilities are infinite.

“You see”, said the Doctor, “The time stream is fluid,
Unlike the beliefs of the ancient Druid.”
“You take a beaker of this, and a flask of that.
Eventually you pour it all back in the hat.”

“We mix it, massage it, and remove all the fear.
All that is left, is good holiday cheer.”
He shook my hand quickly, said “Woof” to the dog,
And then, “Gotta go, more hours to log.”

He stepped into the box, with that “whooshing” sound.
And a moment later no one else was around.
But I heard him exclaim as he disappeared from sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, the time is just right.

Copyright Ó 2014 by

Brian and Shirley Dean