Santa's Dilemma

Santa’s Dilemma

It was just getting light as Christmas Day dawned,
Up there in his sleigh Santa stretched and he yawned,
“I’m getting too old for this job,” he declared,
As they flashed ‘cross the sky, reindeer power not spared,
“I’m not a young man anymore,” he went on,
“Me get up and go’s about got up and gone,
And this frosty night air gets right into me bones,”
And so he went on with similar moans.

Well the reindeer looked at each other and sighed,
In fact Prancer, depressed so, he broke down and cried,
You see they realised that Santa had now reached that stage,
Which we all do and folks say - “He’s feeling his age.”
But the reindeer all knew that deep down Santa’s woe,
Caused not only by age – oh dear me no,
They knew that what really gets down Santa’s craw,
Are the incredible presents the kids now ask for.

Long gone are the days when a little tin drum,
Would a much treasured gift be from Dad or from Mum,
Now its computers and videos, bikes and TV’s,
No wonder poor Santa’s been brought to his knees,
If only folks realised the struggle he’s got,
To get down their chimneys, which at times are quite hot,
With a Sony TV crammed into his sack,
Or a great mountain bike strapped tight to his back.

But the most awkward of gifts that he’s had to convey,
Was a black and white pony, there was all hell to pay,
With a hoof in his ear-hole and tail round his neck,
It’s no wonder poor Santa’s now feeling a wreck,
So Prancer and Dancer and Rudolf and Vixen,
Not to mention the other two Donna and Blitzen,
Are anxious to see Santa safe to the Pole,
For the sleigh when it’s empty is hard to control:

And Santa, God bless him, is dead to the world,
He’s just a red heap, all cosy and curled,
And the night air resounds to his great rasping snores,
As he dreams he’s in bed with his wife - Mrs Claus.
So onward the valiant reindeer fly,
Racing across the dark, Christmas sky,
Their mission complete till Yuletide’s again here,
So Merry Christmas to all and a happy New Year.