A monster lives in my Christmas tree;

he shakes the branches at half-past three.

The tinsel swings from side to side,

the decorations slip and slide,

Jingle-dingle!  Jingle-dingle!

Tinkly dingles intermingle.

 

Even if I stand up on a chair,

I can’t see him — but I know he’s there!

Then I gave him a monstrous cake,

and now he’s got a tummy ache.

There’s no more monster in my tree

so Santa Claus can come to me!

 

James Aitchison