I’ll now tell you a story, which you may not believe,
Of what happened to Brenda upon Christmas Eve.
She spied upon Santa delivering her toys
And he’d lots in his sack for girls and for boys.
Her presents - she saw them - came out of his sack,
But when he then saw her, there was no going back.
She said: “Oh, I’m sorry. I just saw the light.
Well I peeped through the door. I hope it’s all right.”
Could Santa be angry with this little child?
No, of course not. In fact his kindly face smiled:
"I’ll give you a treat for it’s now Christmas Day:
Would you like to ride with me upon my big sleigh?"
Well, if you were that girl, and he’d said that to you
I’m quite perfectly sure that I know what you’d do.
So Brenda said: “Yes” before you could blink.
What a really exciting sleigh-ride you will think.
You’d be right if you thought it was cold in the snow.
You’d be right if you thought that the cold winds would blow.
But Brenda climbed high up onto Santa's big sleigh
And with a tap on the reins they were up and away.
Over hills, over countryside, cities and towns,
She sat next to Santa and enjoyed looking down.
Right up by the moon in the wintry sky
Watching the fluffy white clouds passing by.
She could see where she lived - yes the roof of her house -
And down came the sleigh just as quiet as a mouse.
She climbed through her window and into her bed
And down on her pillow she laid her small head.
Perhaps you might think this was only a dream
And she’d wake up and know all was not as it seemed.
Perhaps Brenda makes up such stories as these
And, with a fanciful mind, she does this with ease.
Well, when next she awoke, upon Christmas Day
There was no sign of Santa, the deer or the sleigh.
There was a card on the table right next to her bed:
“With love to dear Brenda from Santa”, it said.
Copyright on all my poems