‘Twas the night before Dub Dub, when all through the house,
Not an iPad was stirring, not even with a mouse;
iPod Socks were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Hair Force One would be there;
The developers were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of new APIs danced in their heads;
With STS in his ‘kerchief, and Marco in a cap,
Had just settled their plans to rewrite some apps.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Siracusa sprang from his bed, dreaming of Chris Lattner.
A crash in the window due to old Flash,
Casey monitored his shutters without spending much cash.
The moon lit the floor as the Mac Pro fans blow,
Gave a lustre of midday to SwiftUI below,
When what to our wondering eyes did appear,
Not a Hey update, but Apple’s stream far and near.
With a dad-jokey intro so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Tim.