SHE TOOK SANTA FOR A RIDE
She took Santa for a ride in her red Ferrari.
He had told her he needed a pick-me-up.
She drove like the devil, was short like an elf.
He was fattened by cookies, not at all himself.
Why were reindeer just lazing about? Rubs
his eyes. Where is that red-nosed disguise?
That she-devil clattered all over the road.
Santa was used to flying high with his workload.
She talked, talked, talked, as her lips toked.
She croaked like a frog, conversation was abhorrent.
He was certain she ran over wildlife on purpose.
Bump, bump, bumping down the road made him nervous.
What would Mrs. Santa say, when he tried to explain?
How did he get into this Christmas dilemma? The milk
was sort of whiskey sour and he drained the cup.
Now he’s down on the earth instead of up, up, up.
Something overhead catches his attention. A sled!
Who holds the reins, but his wife; and she looks mad.
She’s ready to kick some red-headed Ferrari butt.
If she wasn’t North Pole nice would’ve called her more than a nut.
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