SANTAS CHRISTMAS WISH - HE WANTS TO BE A BRONCO

[Maureen K Clifford]

SANTAS CHRISTMAS WISH


His nose was red, his jeans too tight, in his head flashing lights.
Coughs and splutters everywhere he really looked a fright
Shouting ain’t no use at all the elves don’t care a fig
and outside on the forecourt restless reindeers danced a jig.

Another day of bathroom blues – where was he supposed to go?
Squeezing down tight chimneys gave him bladder stress you know.
Each year they got smaller – ‘twas not that his bum was large.
Builders were economizing – nothing free of charge.

He had been lured by hot chestnuts the odd banana he did fancy
and the sweet smell of the Christmas Pud – meant he looked not like Clancy.
But it mattered not he rode a sleigh – no wild mountain rides did beckon.
Which was just as well in retrospect Mrs Clause was heard to reckon.

He was all ready to go go – he put on his hat and cloak
with his leather boots and leather belt . Not a bad looking bloke.
He’d changed from Red to Maroon this year - his Aussie football team
‘Go the mighty Broncos’ the catch cry on his web scene .

He patted all the reindeers smoothing down their golden fur
Are you ready Donner, Blitzen? Do the ten of us concur?
Move along then Dasher, Comet, Vixen – come along there Dancer
Keep in step you’re paired you know with that cranky pants male Prancer.

And off they flew – Old Rudolph led and Cupid followed next
and Santa sat back with a sigh, looking somewhat vexed
the Indian rope trick in the basket was fine to clamber down
to the chimneys with the presents, but coming up would cause a frown.

His New Year Resolution would be to get fighting fit
like a tough lean muscled Bronco. It wouldn’t hurt a bit
to lose a bit of weight and paunch, get right back on the ball.
He pondered this whilst flying. Not a bad idea at all.

Maureen Clifford © 12/11