12/25/2023
'Twas The Night Before Christmas
By Ryan Coy
Twas the Night Before Christmas in the balloon pilot's home, the weather reports he could not leave alone.
The balloon was packed away in the trailer with care, with with hopes of flying in the still morning air.
The chase crew was nestled all snug in their beds, while dreams of easy pack-ups danced in their heads.
The champagne's on ice, the weather on TV, will there be a morning flight, we'll just have to see.
When out on the launch field there arose such a sound, I ran outside and began to look around.
To the left and the right was nothing to see, nothing moving on the ground, could I be crazy?
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a hot air balloon propelled by reindeer!
And a little old pilot, so lively and and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
At the speed of the wind he floated my way, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
On Wicker and Nylon, on Burner and Propane. On Chase Truck and Trailer, on Crackers and Champagne.
From the top of clouds to the tops of the trees. We'll be landing now, so please bend your knees.
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof, a propane powered burner, just a quick p**f.
I went back inside and and looked all around, down the chimney the pilot came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his toes, and the distinct smell of propane you you could sense on his clothes.
An envelope bag full of toys by his side, and a stack of certificates for private balloon rides.
He spoke not word, turned his radio down low. The chase elves kept calling, which road should we go?
With the presents all placed at this particular stop, up the chimney he went, this was but a hop.
He climbed in his basket, gave the burners a blast, and gently ascended, not overly fast.
Then I heard him call out as he floated into the night, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a safe flight!
Merry Christmas from all of us at the Balloon Federation of America!