Christmas morn was here once more.
The presents lay upon the floor.
A little boy called Dagward Groom
Awakened in his little room.
When suddenly, good gracious me,
A Father Christmas he did see!
He laughed and springing from his bed
He landed promptly on his head.
" Who are you, are you my dad
Or off the telly – someone bad?"
" Someone bad? My gad, " said he,
" I'm friendly Santa, can't you see?
"I've searched and searched but cannot find
That little gift you leave behind. "
" I've hid your lovely glass of beer,"
Said Dagward, with a nasty sneer.
" If I can't ride your three reindeer,
Then you won't get your glass of beer."
" Why, you spiteful little boy!
Then you won't get your big soft toy."
" It doesn't bother me no more
I saw you steal it from next door."
" I never did, the pixies made it."
" You did too and you're a culprit!
"Through the chimney you did go
And left the reindeer in the snow
Within a flash, why you are back
With that big teddy in your sack!
I'll tell my dad your wily ways
He'll boot you from here to USA.
"My dad's a boxer, big and strong
And what you've done is very wrong.
If you're not gone when I count three
He'll hang you on our Christmas tree!"
So Santa took the boy's advice
And he was gone within a trice.
This is one of a number of poems that Karoline Bobrowski wrote as a teenager during the late 1970s.