Deep South Pole

Deep South Pole

Sante Claus is moving south
The weather he loves best,
So many years out in the cold
He thinks he needs a rest.
Delivering the packages
He won’t mind in the rain
Instead of using reindeer
He now will take the train.
He hates to leave the Arctic North
But deep down in his soul,
He knows it’s better for his health,
Or so he has been told.
He can wear a thinner suit,
And never wear a vest.
Instead of wearing leather boots,
Galoshes will be best.
The reindeer can just run and play
And dance upon the sand.
They will not have to worry
If they cannot see to land.
Making rounds upon the train
Should surely make it better,
Instead of wearing lots of fur,
He can wear a sweater.
If the weather starts to change,
Should the fog get thicker,
He can keep his sweater dry
With his red rain slicker.
So hang your stocking by the gate,
And do not tell a soul,
Sante’s coming very soon,
From the Deep South Pole.
by James E. Webber

A Tiny Lump of Coal

A Tiny Lump of Coal
I would like to fill your stocking,
But the bad news I’ve been told.
That you have been kinda naughty,
So all you get is Coal.
If I use the honor system,
And you choose to share your soul,
Your Bear can be your witness,
That you’ve been good as gold.
When eating at the table,
Don’t let your meal get cold.
Mind your table manners,
Sit straight, don’t tip the bowl.
Just listen to your Mother,
Let goodness be your goal.
Always share with others,
And do what you‘ve been told.
Just hang your biggest stocking,
Secured so it can hold.
A lot of Christmas goodies,
And a tiny lump of coal.
by James E. Webber
Old Sante'Claus