My 2015 Christmas parody for all my friends at MacArthur Hills and for all helpers of Santa Claus everywhere!
‘Twas the night before Christmas, at MacHills, you know,
On the north side of Irving, without any snow,
The residents were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of the past danced in their heads.
The lights of Christmas glistened ‘round the hill,
Brightening the night and spreading good will.
No stockings were found at the foot of the bed
For this was Retirement, or so they said.
When all of a sudden, from out of the night
There came such a ruckus it gave us a fright.
We rushed to our porches and looked all around
To the north and the south and guess what we found.
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But a Texas-sized pickup, V8, we could hear,
The driver in Levis, a shirt that was red,
A ten-gallon Stetson sat top of his head.
He jumped from the pickup; he was really a sight,
With his beard and moustache, so curly and white,
A right jolly old elf, he laughed greeting us,
His eyes, how they twinkled, Don’t make a fuss.
He spoke no more, but went straight to the back,
With a wink of his eye, he put wine in his sack
Just stopped to say Thanks, for a job well done,
You helped me give your children some fun.
He passed out the gifts, then turned with a jerk,
Children are waiting, I’m back to my work,
He leaped in his truck, and away it flew
The wine in our hands, our only clue.
So finally we know, Santa Claus is real,
Like Christmas, it’s what you feel.
We heard him shout, ere he drove out of sight,