I know that it is late but I just found this pome and thought I would get it
up before I lose it again.

A CB Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas and all the CB's
Were buzzing with Buddies and their Christmas trees.
The stockings were hung from antennas with care
In hopes that St. Ratchet-Jaw soon would be there.
The kids turned off their rigs and hopped into bed
And waited to hear hoof-beets clomp overhead.
The silence was dreadful-each little one's ear
Was poised for whatever noise he could hear.
When far, far away up in the sky
Could be heard, "Hay, Good Buddy, this rig sure can fly!"
This year old St. Ratchet-Jaw left the dear at home
And went round in an eighteen-wheeler, bright with chrome.
Each part of the systems was glowing with flame
As Ratchet-jaw checked them and called them by name.
"On, headlights! On, motor! On, seatbelts! On, breaks!"
"On, steering! Transmission! Exhaust! Mercy sakes!"
And then to the roof there arose such a clatter,
The household awoke to see what was the matter.
The truck tried to land on the roof, so they say,
But it weighed twenty tones, and the shingles gave way.
As the boards and plaster proceeded to crack,
The kids and their parents yelled, "Quickly! Move back!"
The rear of the truck fell in first, with such force
That the goodies inside jammed open its doors.
As the trailer sprung open, a great wave of toys
Rained down just in front of the good girls and boys.
The CB's, antennas, fuzz busters and such
Delighted the kids, who yelled, "Thanks very much!"
And as Ratchet-Jaw saw all the damage, with fright,
He ran away, shouting, "Merry Christmas, goodnight!"

From the December 1977 issue of S-9 Magazine.