‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a single computer was stirring, not even a mouse;
The hard drives were hung by the servers with care,
In hopes that quicker downloads soon would be there;
The monitors were nestled all snug in their stands,
While visions of gigabytes danced in their heads;
And mamma in her office chair and papa in his cap,
Had just closed their laptops for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the internet there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my screen to see what was the matter.
Away to my search engine I flew like a flash,
Tore open the tabs and clicked on the flash.
The light of the router on its antennae so bright,
Gave lustre to websites of data were so light;
When suddenly what appeared before my eyes square,
But 8 tiny routers with optical links most fair!
With a little old programmer driving them with such skill and finesse,
I knew in an instant it must be St. Nicholas!
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!
“Now Turing! now Babbage! now Lovelace and Vint!,
On Macs! On PCs! On Apples and Mint!”
To the top of routers! To the top of wi-fi!