A Visit from Santa

November 24-December 7, 2020
With Apologies to Edgar Allen Poe

I dreamed of Santa late one night. Oh yes, he gave me quite a fright
When I saw him staring, glaring at me from the bedroom floor.
"It is wrong to take for granted that a kid's house will be Santa'ed!"
I watched in shock as he ranted and he waved his arms some more.
"Please calm down, Santa! You really know that I am fifty-four!
We are adults, kids no more!"

"I think I have Covid burnout. I don't know how things will turn out.
Greedy brats only want to know if Covid will keep me home.
They don't ask about my reindeer! They don't care about my elves here!
This Christmas will be a bum steer!" Did his mouth begin to foam?
This dream, by far, is the strangest one I've ever had at home.
Santa as an angry gnome?

"This year differs from no other. Way back when, I and my brother
Were also rotten brats, but against all odds we turned out fine.
You need a little Christmas cheer, from my list of Christmas puns here!
They are more relaxing than beer. Sit down! Would you like some wine?"
"Goodness me!" said Santa hastily, "would you look at the time!
I must leave at once to dine!"

"There's something worse than horrid brats. You are reminding me of that!
It's time for me to return to the North Pole where I belong.
I really think your Christmas puns will earn a booting on your buns.
But nonetheless stick to your guns, even if you earn a gong.
Thanks for cheering me up!" he said brightly, and then he was gone.
My dream had gone on too long.

Next day I saw upon my step a box of coal someone had left.
Anthracite, bituminous, and lignite, all displayed with class.
"It's not that you're a naughty man," said a note I found in a can,
"I saw a perfect chance and ran with it to give you this sass.
You now have the whole coal-lection! Ho-ho-ho! My puns are not crass!"
Not funny, Santa smart-ass.

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