Holidays

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He'd never seen a reindeer an' he didn't own a sleigh
('cause 'Santas' of his region didn't git about THAT way.)
The outfit he was wearin' had NO fur, (nor was it red);
Yet it sorta matched the Stetson that rode low upon his head.

His hair WAS long...he had a beard (but NEITHER snowy white).
He wasn't short, he wasn't fat, an' no pipe did he light.
He looked as if a chimney COULD accommodate his size;
But THIS 'Santa Claus' WAS different, (that's THE fact to recognize)!

He didn't waddle when he walked, (he SWAGGERED just a bit);
Not REALLY jolly, barely laughed, but had contagious wit!
"Now, little feller,whatcha wish to find on Christmas Day?"
"YOU sure don't LOOK like Santa Claus, an' WHY YOU DRESSED THAT WAY?"
"Now, 'Santa Claus' is just a name that's heard this time o' year,
When bright lights fade, the tree is gone, the REAL gift, STILL is near.
So, while I may NOT LOOK the part, nor fit the 'mold' at all;
Well, neither did that Little King...arrivin' in a stall."

The small boy looked in wonder at that kind an' bearded face
An' settled in, still closer, as if he had FOUND his place!

"The toys are nice, the season's fun, but take it, child, from me;
The GREATEST GIFT is in your heart, an' NOT beneath the tree."

Then 'Santa' checked the time o' day, the line of kids was gone;
He'd done his part, he'd HEARD desires, now found himself alone.
He loved it when the children came; the children 'made his day'...
He bounded to his pickup truck an' swiftly drove away.

As darkness falls, an' from afar, glad tidings seem to swell;
A group of carolers, clad in white, the Christmas story tell.
The 'Santa' pauses, says a prayer, removes his hat...an' then
The light reveals the line of scars...where a crown of thorns has been.

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