Stories of Santa, are often told;
He’s always big, and his laugh is bold.
He wears black boots, to trod through snow;
There is no place, he would not go.
Red’s his favorite color, with white fur trim;
Many dress up, to look like him.
His hat matches his outfit, warm to his head;
Has a similar one, for going to bed.
Cheeks are rosy, yours would be too;
If a snow storm, you had to ride through.
He’s always called jolly, it gives him a lift;
You’d be jolly too, if always giving a gift.
Mrs. Claus has her contributions, cooking up a storm;
After working all day, come home to a meal that’s warm.
Busy throughout the year, the elves don’t quit;
Always making something, like an airplane kit.
Little they may be, workers they are mighty;
Santa makes them, keep the workshop tidy.
When the gifts are made, wrapped and addressed;
They’re packed on the sleigh, and make sure none are missed.
The sleigh is a wonder, holds all those gifts;
Even with his weight, it still lifts.
Rudolph and gang, are at the ready;
A routine flight, they make very steady.
The reindeer have magic powder, causing them to fly;
Don’t ask, no one knows why.
Sleigh and reindeer ready, Kris Kringle gets aboard;
To every kids’ home, he is headed toward.
Going down chimneys, and through the door;
Never leaves enough, kids always wanting more.
By Christmas morning, St. Nick’s work is done;
It’s time, for the kids to have fun.
All done in one night, it is quite unbelievable;
But a life without him, is inconceivable.
Many dads have played him, to fool their offspring;
If you’re a parent, to do, it’s the thing.
Santa Claus, St. Nick, Kris Kringle, we all love the name,
Learning he wasn’t real, was totally lame.
I wrote a letter to Santa today, here’s what I had to say;
Haven’t seen you in a while, you’ve been away.
I’d like a few things this year, along with the cheer;
For starters, an endless supply of beer.
Victoria’s Secret Angels, I’ll take one of them;
If you make it two, I’ll sing you a hymn.
New wheels would be nice, how ‘bout a car;
Mine’s broken, and I can’t get far.
I’d like a Lambo, or maybe a Ferrari;
Remember, you’re the one who forgot me.
I’ll understand, if I don’t get these things;
But don’t be alarmed, when your doorbell rings.
Many years to me, gifts you didn’t give;
Don’t forget, we all know where you live.
I’ll wake up Christmas morning, and check for my new stuff;
Won’t even dress, I’ll do it in the buff.
If my gifts are not there, I’ll run back and forth;
Pack my bags, and start heading North.
It’s not a threat Santa, just my Wish List;
If I get no gifts, I’m gonna be pissed!
I saw Santa on vacation in Florida one year. I found him once, I can find him again.