’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a congressman was stirring, not even their spouse;
The bills were stacked on the desk with care,
In hopes that a budget soon would be there.

The proposal team were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of palm trees danced in their heads.
With no RFP in sight the VP had all but gone for the night,
She had just settled her brain to find a vacation site,
When from her laptop arose such a clatter,
She sprang from her chair to see what was the matter.

Away to Outlook she flew like a flash,
Tore open her email, and mustered a gasp.
The RFP had dropped like a New England snow,
And the shock gave way to panic with her team on PTO.

When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But her phone and an icon, so near,
With a tap and a swipe, the app lively and quick,
She worried in that moment it must be a trick.

More rapid than eagles TOD began to search,
And seemed to shout out perfect teammates by name:
“Now! Dana, now! Danny, now! Patricia, and Vicki,
“On! Conner, on! Corry, on! Debbie and William,”
To the top of the app, their profiles did rise!

The team was assembled with bags packed ready to fly!
They made it to the airport with seconds to spare,
The team was assembled and soon in the air.

So up, up, and way they did fly,
With an outline and graphics—and TOD by their side.
And then in a twinkle, the VP heard nearby,
The rumble of Ubers as they each arrived.

Pacing and planning from a team on the ground,
Then into the proposal room they went in a bound:
They were not dressed to impress, but ready to work,
Their laptops were on with screens lit bright.

And Mod Specs were ready to begin the fight,
It was obvious this group from SMA is like no other:
Their eyes—how they twinkled! Their dimples like cherries,
Their cheeks were like roses, they were all so merry.

They rolled up their sleeves and continued their task,
the PM’s direction was fearless and would last.
The cap of a pen he held tight in his teeth,
And the proposal encircled the room like a wreath.

With a CA/PTW in hand and win themes abound,
ensured the proposal would not come unwound.
They were masters of their craft, this SMA team,
And as they engaged, the VP could see their delight.

A wink from the PM and a twist of his head,
Soon gave her to know she had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went back to his task,
filling each volume with care; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
gave a nod, as final draft he rose.

He sprung to his Uber, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But the VP heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

by Jacque Keats, CF APMP

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