Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the glen,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a wren.
The stockings were hung by the beetle hole with care,
In hopes that St. Beetle soon would be there.

The larvae were nestled all snug in their shell,
While visions of aphids danced, oh how swell!
And Mama in her carapace, and I in my thorax,
Had just settled in for a long winter's relax.

When out on the bark there arose such a chatter,
I sprang from my chitin* to see what's the matter.
Away to the tree trunk I scuttled real quick,
Tore open the crevice and threw back the stick.

The moon on the beetle-made dew, oh so bright,
Gave the lustre of midday to the beetle's delight.
When, what to my multi-faceted eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight dung beetles near!

With a little old driver, so lively and spry,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Beetle Nick, oh my!
More rapid than carrion beetles, his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and clicked, and called them by name!

"Now Dung-beetle! Now, Rhinoceros! Now, Firefly and Beetle-weevil!
On, Ladybug! On, Stag-beetle! On, Hercules and Ground-beetle!
To the top of the leaf! To the top of the twig!
Now crawl away! Crawl away! Crawl away big!"

As ants on a sugar trail before the feast fly,
When they catch scent of honey, straight to the sky.
So up to the treetop the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of aphids, and St. Beetle Nick too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the bark,
The prancing and crunching of each little dark.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the beetle hole St. Beetle Nick came with a bound.

He was dressed all in elytra, from his head to his feet,
And his exoskeleton was shiny, oh how neat!
A bundle of beetles he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a collector, opening his pack.

His eyes - how they sparkled! his antennas, how merry!
His elytra were iridescent, his carapace a grand ferry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the setae on his legs were as white as the snow.

The stump of a stump bug he held tight in his jaws,
And the mandibles encircled his chomper with gauze.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a jelly.

He was robust and glossy, a right jolly old beetle,
And I laughed when I saw him, oh what a treat!
A blink of his eyes 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 pile,
And filled all the hollows, then left with a smile.
And laying his leg aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the tree he rose!

He crawled to his sleigh, to his team gave a click,
And away they all flew, oh so quick!
But I heard him exclaim, as he buzzed out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good flight!"

*I am now aware it's pronounced "ki-tin"