Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the office
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Tester.
The archietcture was drawn on the whiteboard with care,
In hopes that a Shaping Arhcitect soon would be there.
The Business Anlaysts were nestled all snug in workshops,
While visions of requirements danced in their heads.
And the PM in MS Project, and I in Visio,
Had just settled our brains for a replanning session.
When out of the lift there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the meeting room to see what was the matter.
Away to the whiteboard I flew like a flash,
Tore open a Marker and threw up the flipchart.
The flouresent light on the new-drawn design
Gave the lustre of decoupling to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a Business Sponsor, and eight tinny SMEs.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be the General Manager.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
He sprang to the lift, and to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere the lift door closed,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”