By Ernestine Cobern Beyer
Santa Claus, just a bit late, I believeWas taking his usual trip, Christmas Eve,When all of a sudden he uttered a shoutAs his little red sled started lurching about.Something had happened to startle the reindeer.Donner, the leader, a very well-trained deer,
Had sighted a comet. (He had, on my honor . . . .)And the comet was rapidly heading for Donner!
"Whoa!" shouted Santa--then grabbed at his cap,But he might just as well have commanded: "Giddap!"For Donner was dashing away in the sky,Going so fast and so far and so high
That he very soon came to that place far away
Which angels reserve for small cherubs at play.
Alarmed at the sight of the runaway sled,Some dove into mist-banks, heels over head;One of them happily strumming his harp,Showed his excitement by striking a sharp!
Another so hastily fled through the blue
That he tumbled his little gold halo askew!"Whoa, Donner, whoa!" Santa loudly repeated,Bouncing so high he was nearly unseated!But rolling his eyeballs and snorting aloud,Panicky Donner just fled for a cloud,And reaching it, tunneled it hopefully through--Only to find that the comet had, too!Santa, poor fellow, was wearing a frown,For by now he was riding along upside-down.
Then Donner swerved sharply, thus righting the sled,And tailed by the comet, went plunging ahead
'Til he presently met, looming up in his track,A rain-swollen cloud of a thunderous black.
Towering awesomely there in the skies,This cloud was so very enormous in size
That when it uncorked its spectacular spout,"Glug!" said the comet--and meekly went out.
As Donner turned 'round and descended the sky.And so, just as midnight was starting to chime,He arrived at your rooftop exactly on time!
With thanks to:
Barbara Beyer Malley