Some call him
Father Christmas,
Some call him
Saint Nick.
Others say he’s
Santa Claus –
We just want him to come
QUICK!

Photo from Pexels by Daniel Reche
Some call him
Father Christmas,
Some call him
Saint Nick.
Others say he’s
Santa Claus –
We just want him to come
QUICK!

Photo from Pexels by Daniel Reche
Santa had a problem for his suit no longer fit.
It was snug around the tummy. When he sat, his trousers split.
One bight and early morning, Mrs Santa said:
“My dear, I must tell you something that I read.
I love you roly-poly, I love you as you are,
but if you took a health test you wouldn’t get a star.
It’s really most important to have a healthy heart
and if you want a long life, it’s not too late to start.”
Santa called in at the health club—the trainer checked him out.
She said: “We’ll plan a program that will work without a doubt.”
She booked him in for workouts three times every week,
then talked about his diet and told him what to eat.
He ate lots of fruit and vegies, chose grilled instead of fried
for every single main meal, with salads on the side.
He said no to morning tea cakes and had carrot sticks instead.
Whenever offered sweet treats, he firmly shook his head.
Santa also started walking quite early in the day
and soon those extra kilos began to melt away.
He said: “I feel fantastic, this year will be a breeze.
I’ll deliver all those presents without the slightest wheeze.
I won’t get stuck in chimneys or struggle up steep stairs
or stop to have a rest whenever I see chairs.”
Then on Christmas Eve, a problem as Santa dressed to leave.
His suit no longer fit him except for length of sleeve.
His top was loose and baggy where tight it was before,
and when he pulled his trousers up, they slid down to the floor.
He looked at Mrs Santa. “Whatever will we do?
Perhaps some safety pins? Could you sew a seam or two?
We need a quick solution for I really ought to go.
The children are all waiting and I can’t be late, you know.”
Mrs Santa nodded and tried to hide a smile.
“Thank goodness it’s late shopping. This will only take a while.”
So that’s why this year Santa won’t be wearing his red suit.
He’s got a brand new outfit. Mrs Santa thinks it’s cute.
It’s a bright red fleecy tracksuit for warmth in North Pole cold,
and a pair of sporty sneakers replacing boots of old.
For his head a woolly beanie instead of pom pom cap.
So if one Christmas evening you should glimpse a bearded chap
who looks a lot like Santa except he’s fit and trim,
don’t think that you’re mistaken, for yes, you’re right, it’s him!
Teena Raffa-Mulligan
Santa’s wish list
I’ve never thought it pleasant
asking Santa for a present
even though I’m really longing for a bike.
So while I’m sitting on his knee
and his attention’s all on me
I ask the man what he would really like.
Santa’s taken out a list
just to check that nothing’s missed
and I’m madly writing all his wishes down.
Some snazzy luggage racks
to hold those heavy-duty sacks
he lugs around at night from town to town.
He has now gone on to say
that he would really like a sleigh.
His other one, he says, is getting old.
A turbo-charged two-seater
with a super-duper heater
to protect him from the bitter arctic cold.
Dasher’s girth has lost its casing,
Rudolph’s harness needs replacing
and he says that he had better add as well
That Donner, Comet, Prancer
and some other deer called Dancer
all need a new and flashy-looking bell.
His list just keeps on going,
his demands on me are growing.
This really is becoming quite absurd.
The requests are getting stranger,
now he’s asked me for a manger
that is big enough to feed his treasured herd.
He’s still got several pages,
he’s been going on for ages
and I’m not sure I can get him all this stuff.
He’s talking now of brandy
and some special brand of candy
but I’ve hopped down from his lap. I’ve had enough!
© Jenny Erlanger