Santa Poems

Death May Be Your Santa Claus

Another morning gone. The warp and weft
of kids and errands seems a sort of theft.
I love to listen to the phone-in show,
Peoria Euphoria K Seven, Illinois,
the kind of thing that housewives can enjoy -
Andrea Doria, Eva Longoria -
but parents don’t have rights. I’ve got to go.

Another morning spent. The spare room painted.
I poured the soup

Red Banner, No Quarter

Early on a cold March morning
a handful of men took a stand
in the year of eighteen thirty six
when a sabre drew a line in the sand
it was victory or death for the valiant few
outnumbered and out-gunned
surrender and be spared an ultimatum they knew
with a cannon shot by Travis it was shunned
even as the day was

Auld Lang Sighs

It doesn’t happen everyday
Through perilous weather, flies Santa’s sleigh
Reflecting in the Winter sun
Are its legs, in gunmetal grey

Yet as Christmas Eve turns to Morning
Falling behind red-silk and cotton
Among the frost
One’s mind is lost
And all else is forgotten

The children play with what was brought
Without as much as a second thought
From where these marvellous gifts came
Or in

The Pride of Santa Monica, California

Robert Cabot Sherman, Jr. was an All-American boy.
To his parents, Robert Cabot Sr. and Juanita, he was their great joy.
Gifted with acting skills and a great voice, his career went far.
In no time at all, California's native son became a star.
On television in "Here Come the Brides", he played "Jeremy"
This role cemented his tremendous popularity.

His

Bring Them Home, Santa

     Christmas in July in Israel is nigh
     My list of wishes in the Gaza Strip is

     For every hostage priceless, 
     Too many now lifeless

     Grieve for Israel’s fallen married
    

To Santa Fe

Ever since I left you
the sky has been too narrow
and the light too heavy
and I inhabit the flatlands
like an exile, dreaming of
the Blood of Christ mountains 
and mesquite.

The scent of silver sage
is the perfume you wore
the day you seduced me
as I wandered your streets
with my soul still echoing
from canyon walls,
and the hush hadn’t yet left

Santa We've Been Outta Touch

Santa Claus, we’ve been out of touch 
and I don’t ask for very much 
but I have needs, and I’m in Dutch

I want to see the light of day
oh, and can you give me a sleigh
and a way to forget yesterday

can I have a smiling face
and something that will erase
memories of a certain place

give me

Written in Santa Maria della Vittoria

The feast, it happened, of Saints Peter and Paul.
I’d called in early, for a final look
at Saint Teresa in her cosy nook,
before the tourists made a shopping mall
of this delightful church. My plans on stall
(for Mass was under way), I soon forsook
my statue contemplation, since the hook
the sermon dangled caught me in its thrall.
Those two

Holiday Fun

Santa sang as he approached the streets.
Couldn't wait to give out some treats.
From the window, he looked East.
He saw there was a feast.
Rode back and had all the sweets.

Frosty got so bored inside on a Monday.
He came out and walked along the way.
He had put on new glasses.
Stood beside a campfire outside the classes.
He cried

Rudolph's Leg is Broke

santa’s in a fix rudolph’s leg is snapped
tripped on a candy cane now the poor guy’s trapped
mrs claus is fuming elves are losing their cool
one slipped on tinsel and fell in the gift pool

how will they deliver the toys in the night
without rudolph’s bright nose guiding their flight
but then an elf shouts hey we’ve got

Holiday Fun

Frosty

there once was a snowman named frosty
whose figure was round and quite glossy
he danced through the town
till the sun came around
and left poor old frosty quite saucy



Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

there once was a reindeer named rudolph
whose bright nose would often just show off
he lit up the sleigh
but led them astray
when he stopped for a snack

An old new year wish

As my limbs grow feeble and now wobble,
My old wish every new year, a manna,
Easily reached by my legs that hobble.
Brought to me like in the sacks of Santa.

Though, no work deserves no pay as they say,
But my muscles are just too weak to toil,
Many more years, I wish my mind to stay.
Let not hunger

Holiday Fun

Rudolph and Santa, two jolly good friends,
On their own friendship, so much depends.
One day, they both fought,
'Cause someone stole what they'd bought 
But soon, they were able to make amends.

Later that day, they caught the thief,
But learning he'd sold their goods caused them grief.
They then informed the police,
Who gave them ten Pounds apiece.
That their kind

Christmas Waves of Joy

Beneath the palm trees, Santa sighed, forlorn,
His sleigh stuck fast, his reindeer worn and still.
The Florida sun rose bright that Christmas morn,
A far cry from the frosty North Pole's chill.

The elves devised a clever, timely scheme:
They called on dolphins to replace the sleigh.
With flippers strong, they swam like in a dream,
And Santa laughed, "We'll save

Santa has a wife and a son

I never knew Santa Claus had a wife,
until I saw her photo on his shelf.
Seems he leads a cozy family life
For the joy he spreads goes beyond himself.

And who would guess that Santa has a child?
Perhaps that's why he gives with such delight.
With children's faces, radiant and wild,
Reflect his own child's joy on Christmas night.

His

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