It was there on the lawn when I got home
last night from where I’ve been.
I’m not sure but I think somewhere
around about a half past ten.
An old glowing brown sack full of gifts
with kids around it, with sheepish grins.
I know from their, not me dad looks,
they’ve been up to something then.
That cloud of dark smoke in the East,
I saw through the back door screen.
The big oak tree’s branches were
strangely snow fallen clean.
My R.P.G. had recently been fired
laying there just dropped, I know,
and slay bells were all around,
in the blood spattered snow.
Old Saint Nick must have lost his way
in the dark and had quite a fright.
For it seems he drove his sled too close
to the kids gunnery range last night.
Copyright ©2004 Ellis William Moore