So, there we were on Apple Eve
Awaiting a visit from Santa Steve
Our stockings all hung in cyberspaces
(Would we be left with egg on our faces?)
When we dashed down the stair on Apple Morn
Would we find our stockings ragged and torn
Would our Macs disappear in a lump of coal
Or would Apple, once more, find itself on a roll?

Apple Morn

"Oooo!" There stood the tree, a virtual delight
A cyber-confection, frosted in white
Hung all around with Rumors and Hope
Covered with silken strands of rope
Spun from the spiders that thrive on the Web
It gave us to feel there was nothing to dread
But, what of the stockings we'd hung with such care
What digital dreams might be hidden there...

Apple Afternoon

We downloaded Socks from our favorite sites
Surfing the Web by ComputerLight
Then we emptied them all on the floor of the Net
Hmmm, not a bad haul. But... is this all we get?
Some shiny new Apples, a Cookie or two
Some Software for me, a Screwdriver for you
So, where's the red sled, the train under the tree
And why did the clock stop round about three?
What burst our balloon
(Or do I mean Whom?)
Apple Afternoon
Done too soon

Apple Evening

The Cyber-Spiders were hard at work. Could that missing hour or so mean 'More to Come'. Were great changes yet to be revealed? Was Apple Eve no one-shot occasion? (A word to Hallmark: You might be on to a good thing here.)

Well, I'm no Oracle, but I promise you this. The Web won't stop spinning til the answers are in. Maybe, in the end, that was Santa's best gift to Mac storytellers and Web-weavers everywhere. The Apple just keeps turning.

"A Happy Apple to All ... and to All a G3".