It seems every holiday season I am somehow compelled to edit “’Twas the Night Before Christmas”, by Clement Clarke Moore, into something amusing, I hope. For 2011, I am imagining a fine smelling house crammed full of Natural Perfumers on Christmas Eve. The Christmas tree above is our own Editor Tama Blough’s complete with natural goodies and  organic soy milk for Scent-a Claus.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Natural Perfumer’s house
Not a thing was stirring, not even a new mod.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Scent-a Claus soon would be there.

The artists were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of new tinctures danced in their heads.
And Michelyn in her Hermes scarf, and I in my felt hat,
Had just settled our blogged-out brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the laptop to see what was the matter.
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 snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny natural perfumers.

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

 
"Now Anya! now, Charna! now, JoAnne and Jane-Deer!
On, Tanja! On,Julie , on Ayala and  Mandy !
To the top of the atelier! to the top of the organ!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

  
As boring fumes that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an original, mount to the sky.
So up to the atelier-top the natural perfumers they flew,
With the sleigh full of crystal flacons, and Scent-a Claus too.

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

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of essential oils he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a perfumer, just arranging his notes.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like a (Bed of) roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as (Winter) white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe (Meerschaum) he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a (Tabac Aurea)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 elf,
And I laughed 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 nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the sillage of an extrait.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Fragrant Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

 

From the entire team at CaFleureBon we wish the Happiest of Holidays to each and every one of our readers and hope we’re all back here next year smelling better than ever, naturally of course.

–Mark Behnke, Managing Editor

Art Direction-Michelyn Camen, Chief Elf