Our Christmas Poem

T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house
The only one up was Happy Stan, not the mouse!
While I was so nestled, and snug in my bed
Pop cans and bottles, clanked in Stan’s head
Happy Stan was awake, he just couldn’t sleep
Dreaming of how many can’s he would reap
While every child’s list, longed almost a mile
The left over boxes, made Happy Stan smile
When out of the blue, Happy Stan heard a clatter
Shocked to discover, that Santa was Fatter
He slid down our Chimney, through ashes and muck
Supposed to be sleeping, I saw Santa stuck
I noticed a man, with traces of dirt
That covered his elbows, his hands and his shirt
He reached his hand high, to help Santa out
Where did he come from, what’s he about?
Who had saved Santa, from being stuck in that soot?
Who yanked him out, from the sole of his foot?
I didn’t quite know, found out what I could
Turns out Happy Stan, did just what he should
Santa was chubby and plump, had put on some pounds
And needed some help, making his rounds
Stan worked out a plan, to help Santa out
In exchange for some words, that Santa would shout
Santa delivered each gift, with a big rosy grin
Happy Stan ate the cookies, ‘cause he was so thin
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight
Help save a tree, recycle tonight!
By Karla Muir, November 27th, 2007