Read Poems by Steve Harvell

  

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Making Santa's Naughty List

Woke at five and heard the rain sprinkle, 
so I crawled back in for a good morning sleeper. 
All that stIrred was the fan beside the bed as
I turned it off and curled to stir some heat. 
My eyes went close and the world went black, 
I went back sleep in hopes of St. Nick.
Not a dream lingers, not even a sound made. 
That fat little" son of a monkey's az just 
flew over my house again. 
I flew from my bed with my shotgun in my hand, 
I get you this time my friend and all your precious jewels. 
Third round came and I let off a shot, Dang he's 
quick as I hit Rudolph in the sack.
He rared and kicked as he shot straight to the sky.
As Santa cried, I get you next year as he 
flew out of sight.