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Ooop's A Daisy, Santa!He was flying through the skies, His reindeer speeding fast, Santa couldn't wait, For Xmas eve to pass! Rudolph's nose was glowing, Lighting up the way, So Santa could deliver all the toys, So all the children could play. As they were travelling through the air, Santa was said to say, ‘Rudolph, get your skates on,' ‘Cause I haven't got all day!' Well Rudolph was a little upset, For a very hard worker was he, So he pulled up sharp, made Santa bark, ‘Rudolph, listen to me! ‘Behave yourself and do your job, Or you will not be fed, And instead of a treat with a carrot, You'll starve and be sent to bed!' Well Rudolph was feeling angry, Cause he was tired and cold, So he tugged and tugged at the reign, Cause he was feeling bold! But Santa was one step ahead, And tugged that reign with all his might, Shouting, ‘Rudolph, you're dead meat! Of that there is no doubt!' Rudolph was feeling nervous, And decided to behave himself, Or he would be demoted, And have to work like an elf! Meanwhile Santa had found the house, Of a little brother and sister, ‘Oi,' he shouted at Rudolph,' ‘Stop or we'll have missed her!' That early evening Santa brought, A bike for little John, But he forgot poor Emily's doll… He looked but there was none! So it happened that he returned, That cold and snowy night, Weather beaten, cold and tired, He was a terrible sight! He climbed out of the sleigh, And jumped onto the roof, Climbed down the chimney, And ate his mince pie as proof. Proof that he existed, And also that he'd been, He'd left the presents under the tree, As the children in sleep would dream. Dream of all the surprises, That Santa would leave under the tree, And so as Christmas morning dawned, They ran downstairs to see! Eyes aglow in a smiling face, They oooh'd and ahhh'd with glee, The look upon their faces, Was a sight to see! All over the world the children, Wore a great big beaming smile, And this is what it's all about, It makes it all worthwhile. So once again Rudolph and the reindeers, Glided through the skies, To return a tired Santa to Iceland, He could hardly open his eyes. So on Christmas morning this year, When you look into the children's eyes, Don't for get poor Santa, As he's gliding through the skies! ©Catherine Inglesby 1999 Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem |
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