Not For Children
NOT FOR CHILDREN
It had been in the window for a week,
A bedroom display with
Santa in the sack asleep,
His bright red clothes draped over the bedpost,
A half-empty fifth of whisky on the night stand
Adults looked on in horror
Especially the old folk
A drunken Santa passed out in bed?
That was no damn joke!
From time to time with onlookers
Santa - clad in white, trap door underwear -
would rise,
Sit his broad bare behind
On the edge of the bed,
Lift the fifth and take a swig
Oh how they gasped the church crowd
When Santa lifted, let out gas quite loud
Christmas Eve the shocking scenes were passed,
A breathing time come at last
The bed was empty
Santa gone clothes gone
Whisky bottle sanding empty BUT!
Gawking folk now looking skyward beheld
A sleigh eight reindeer
And the jolly old elf cracking whip, belching
good cheer
Rudolf still led the horned team in flight
But watchers beheld a stranger sight
Bold - lit up like a big red rose –
And thrusting a Star reaching beacon,
Santa’s whisky sodden nose
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