Puckish Papa
I’ll be home for Christmas;
I can’t afford to go
anywhere that’s warmer
and lacks a foot of snow.
The radio is blaring
those shop-worn Xmas tunes,
shriveling my goodwill
into a heap of prunes.
I’m getting awful tired
of all those silver bells,
crooning about sleigh rides
my ear drums greatly swells.
Rudolph, take your red nose
and stick it you-know-where;
Frosty, I’ve a blow torch
to part your [...]
