Christmas Story-Poems

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By Josie Whitehead

Santa's Retired Now

That poor old man called Santa Claus

    Looked round and then he sighed.

And on his desk were lists of toys –

    And poor old Santa cried.


‘A hundred years delivering toys

    Is more than I can take!’

He dried the tears on both his cheeks:

    ‘And changes I will make.’


He advertised his Santa job:

    Perhaps you saw it too.

‘A lovely vacancy,’ it said:

    ‘Is waiting here for you.’


Within a week his job had gone.

    He packed his bags and went.

He left the world of kids and toys

    To a life much more content.


He burnt the red coat and the hat,

    Waved goodbye to his deer;

He shaved the white beard from his face

    And gave a hearty cheer.


He shut the door and hurried off

    To somewhere in the sun -

And he’ll not turn out Christmas Eve

    For he’ll be having fun!!


So, before you sleep on Christmas Eve,

     Look out and into space:

For that new man, with lists in hand,

      Has taken Santa’s place.


I hope you’ll get the things you’d like

      For a new job’s hard to do:

But hopefully, when you awake,

     There’ll be some gifts for you.


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