A Christmas poem

Santa’s elves are working 24/7 — working in harmony like angels in heaven

Santa’s elves are working 24/7 — working in harmony like angels in heaven. Suddenly a helper called Santa into the night, he was upset and full of fright.

The elf pointed tearfully in total dismay, Santa the ice is melting around your sleigh. Santa sighed and said with a frown, global warming has reached our town.

Not a twinkle appeared from his soft blue eyes, Santa looked up to God — then softly cried. Rudolph with his nose so bright — will have trouble guiding the sleigh tonight.

Pollution has dimmed all the lights below, but for the children we have to go. For the first time in centuries Santa felt stress — but his elves and reindeer would try their best.

With glaciers melting and sinking far below the sea, will the sounds of  Christmas tidings and  children’s voices sing out with glee? There is nowhere left on this planet to go — perhaps no more Santa, no more snow.

Tom Isherwood

 

Olalla