Deep South Pole

By James E. Webber

Sante Claus is moving south

The weather he loves best,

So many years out in the cold

He thinks he needs a rest.

Delivering the packages

He won’t mind in the rain.

Instead of using reindeer

He now will take the train.

He hates to leave the Arctic North

But deep down in his soul,

He knows it’s better for his health,

Or so he has been told.

He can wear a thinner suit,

And never wear a vest.

Instead of wearing leather boots,

Galoshes will be best.

The reindeer can just run and play

And dance upon the sand.

They will not have to worry,

If they cannot see to land.

Making rounds upon the train

Should surely make it better,

Instead of wearing lots of fur,

He can wear a sweater.

If the weather starts to change,

Should the fog get thicker,

He can keep his sweater dry

With his red rain slicker.

So hang your stocking by the gate,

And do not tell a soul,

Sante’s coming very soon,

From the Deep South Pole.