With the greatest of apologies to Clement Clark Moore a scented twist on the immortal “Twas The Night Before Christmas”
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the website
Not a creature was stirring, not even a byte.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Scent-a Claus soon would be there.
The editors were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Shalimar danced in their heads.
And Michelyn in her scarf (Hermes of course), and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out of my Mac there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the monitor I flew like a flash,
Tore open the keyboard and booted up the drive.
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 reindeer.
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 coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Bertrand! now,Laurice! now, Yann and Mathilde!
On, Michel! On, Geza! on, on Dawn(dear) and Rodrigo!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves (by CB) that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Flacons, and Scent-a Claus too.
And then, in a tinkling ( of bottles), I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little (elegantly shod) hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Scent-a Claus came with a bound.
He was dressed in Karl Lagerfeld (Kapsule by Mark Buxton), from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were perfect with no ashes or soot.
A bundle of Scents he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a perfumer, just opening his organ (keep it clean).
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses (Nahema), his nose like a cherry(Bomb Killer)!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as (Comme des Garcons) white as the snow.
The stump of a (Demeter) pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a (Tobacco Vanille) wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
Photo: Bond No. 9
He was chubby and plump, a right fragrant old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A spritz of an atomizer and a twist of a (Bond No.9) stopper,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled the air with scent, 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 drydown of a cologne.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Fragrant Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
From the team at Ca Fleure Bon to you and your families. We hope you find that Scent-a Claus has left you something fragrant under the tree or in your stocking.
Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!
–Mark Behnke, Managing Editor