• Once a year in December,
    On a cold and gloomy night,
    An old man with flying creatures,
    Fat cheeks, and beard of white,
    Comes down from his Arctic prison,
    To bring us terror and despair,
    Snatching children from their beds,
    No other evil can compare.
    So Lock the doors, and bolt the latches,
    Keep the kiddies in their beds,
    Tell them to keep very quiet,
    Or they might just lose their heads.
    And when you hear those sleigh bells ring,
    That cackle in the sky,
    You feel your heart pound faster,
    And a tear leak from your eye.
    “Who is this horrid man?” Some ask,
    When I give out my warning,
    “Well his name is Santa Claus,”
    “And he should be gone by morning.”
    They ambush me with questions,
    I tell them all I know.
    And as the jingling fades away,
    We hear one last “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
    That wicked man with crimson eyes,
    Who climbed straight out of Hell,
    Santa Claus, the child eater,
    Or so, the legions tell.
    Hannah.H2008©