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T'was the night before Christmas
In our desert spa;
No icicles hanging,
No snowmen to thaw.
A bright eastern star
In the velvet blue skies,
Shone down on the mountain
Where the stone angel flies.
On this sacred eve,
The hot mineral wells
Seem to harmonize their song
With the coyote's yells.
The crystal clear air
Was crisp but not cold
As this Christmas eve drama
Began to unfold.
The speedy roadrunner
With his comical chatter
Interrupts his chase
As he hears a great clatter!
Like Santa Ana winds,
On this soft desert night,
Comes the jovial figure,
No reindeer in sight
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In a Lexus golf cart
He flew in a flash
Over Cabots Museum
With its historical past.
The I chuckled out loud,
And just had to stare
As eight tiny roadrunners
Pulled him through the air!
He landed at Angel View,
And with joyful glee,
Began leaving presents
Around the big tree.
A cell phone for Carol,
An Ipod for Sue,
A skateboard for Johnny
And Georgie got a few.
Throughout our oasis
His kindness would show;
But now it was time
For Santa to go.
And I heard him exclaim,
In a streak of blue fire,
“Merry Christmas to all,
It’s here I’ll retire!”
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Poems may not be published or
used without specific permission of the author.
~ Buzz Gambill |