Desert Pilot

This poem has been around the internet a while and probably on paper longer. Just a quick search I found it on AvWeb in 2006 and on an Airline forum in 2003. Another had posted it again this year and it made my smile so I thought I'd recored it here. I got bored and added the links in below.T'was the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ.The aircraft were fastened to tie downs with care,In hopes that -- come morning -- they all would be there.The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots,With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots.I slumped at the fuel desk, now finally caught up,And settled down comfortably, resting my butt.When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter,I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter.A voice clearly heard over static and snow,Called for clearance to land at the airport below.He barked his transmission so lively and quick,I'd have sworn that the call sign he used was "St. Nick."I ran to the panel to turn up the