Twas the night before Christmas in halls of command, The capitol quiet, a still, empty land. No analyst stirring with reports or with charts, No coordinator with schedules or parts. Assistants all tucked in, their day's work now done, A silent reprieve ere new tasks begun. And Ron in his dreams, undisturbed by the din, Found peace in the night as the world quieted within. The city lay hushed, beneath a blanket of calm, As snow softly fell, like a drifting balm. The stars watched in silence, the moon cast its light, On a Capitol resting this one festive night.