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When Santa set out on his route
      One stormy Christmas Eve,
He checked his list, his parcels too,
     And nothing did he leave.

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He spends a lot of time, you know,
    Before this special night.
He boards his sleigh, taps on the reins
     And then he holds on tight.

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Up and away went Santa Claus -
      Right up above the clouds -
And the efficiency of Santa's work
      Would make most people proud.

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One night, however, things went wrong
     High up there in the sky,
And it’s hard enough for that poor man
     To miss those planes up high.

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A storm was sweeping round the world -
     A hurricane in fact - 
And Santa battled through the wind
     With all those presents packed.

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The sleigh was tossed from side to side;
     The reindeers?  Well you’ve guessed.
They tried their best to carry on
     But for certain they were stressed. 

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The load of presents - what of these?
     Well, it’s exactly as you feared.
They fell from Santa’s Christmas sleigh
     And quickly disappeared.

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Next morning children went to see
     What presents they’d received,
And finding nothing, goodness me,
     Felt that they’d been deceived.

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Then on the news, quite loud and clear,
     They spoke of Santa’s plight,
But the newscaster said: 'Don’t you fret.
     He'll bring your toys tonight.'

 

Copyright on all my poems

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