Not a program was working not even a browse.

The programmers hung by their tubes in despair,

with hopes that a miracle would soon be there.

The users were nestled all sung in their beds,

while visions of inquiries danced in their heads.

When out in the machine room there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear,

but a super programmer (with a six-pack of beer).

His resume glowed with experience so rare,

he turned out great code with a bit-pusher’s flair.

More rapid than eagles, his programs they came,

and he cursed and muttered and called them by name:

On update! on add! on inquiry! on delete!

on batch jobs! on closing! on functions complete!

His eyes were glazed-over, fingers nimble and lean,

from weekends and nights in front of a screen.

A wink of his eye, and a twitch of his head,

soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

turning specs into code; then turned with a jerk;

And laying his finger upon the “ENTER” key,

the systems came up and worked perfectly.

The updates updated; the deletes, they deleted;

the inquiries inquired, and closings completed.

He tested each whistle, and tested each bell,

with nary an abend, and all had gone well.

The system was finished, the tests were concluded.

The users’ last changes were even included.

And the user exclaimed with a snarl and a taunt,