.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer—A Sonnet

Poor Rudolph was a reindeer with a nose
resembling a bulb of bright red hue.
The other reindeer laughed and said, “It glows
like Santa’s after knocking back a few.”
They called him ‘Scarlet Schnozz’ and wouldn’t play
or socialise with Rudolph till a mist
descended on the eve of Christmas Day
and threatened every young child’s Yuletide list.
Then Santa noticed Rudolph’s nasal light,
and said to him, “There’s naught for us to fear;
with your proboscis shining through the night,
you’ll lead my sleigh’s traditional team of deer.”
Thus Rudolph’s gleaming nose brought Christmas joy
and gifts to every girl and every boy.

.

.

A Christmas Visitor, Revisited

’Twas the night before Christmas; ’twas quiet as heck;
I’d been down the boozer and felt like a wreck.

The lights on the front of our semi looked brill,
though I dreaded next month’s electricity bill.

The fir tree we’d placed by the living-room door,
had needles cascading like rain on the floor.

But festive it looked, with its tinsel and balls;
as did the three cards we’d strung up on the walls.

From upstairs I heard my two young daughters jawing
into their iPhones, whilst their Mama was snoring.

Dear Wife! With her shower cap over her hair,
and cucumber face pack to keep her skin fair.

Then out by the patio came a rum sound,
of swearing, glass breaking, and guess what I found?

A fellow, be-masked, with a sack on his back,
had entered the kitchen attired all in black.

“Who goes there?” I asked. “I’m expecting St. Nick;
if you’re an intruder, I’ll go fetch a stick.”

“No! Wait!” cried the young man, an overgrown boy.
“I’m Santa’s apprentice. I’m here to bring joy.

“These gifts are for you,” and he passed me the sack.
So I said, “Come on in and partake of a snack.”

We placed all the presents safe under the tree,
then sat on the couch watching Christmas TV.

My new friend was eager to tell me his tale,
lest I get the wrong notion and send him to jail.

“St. Nick’s overworked,” he explained, “for the Earth
has too many kids, and of Santas a dearth.

“He hires, for this reason, an army of folk
like me to assist him—I swear it’s no joke.

“But red’s not my colour, and chimneys are blocked,
so I climb through the windows since doors are kept locked.”

I may be a cynic, but felt without doubt
he was Santa’s trainee, not a low, thieving lout.

So I fetched him some cookies and milk in a glass;
but he said: “If you don’t mind I’ll give them a pass.

“It’s cold out! My toes, I can feel them no longer,
I think I’d prefer a libation that’s stronger.”

I knew what he meant, so together we downed
two bottles of schnapps—then next day I was found

asleep by my wife and my girls on the couch,
beside Santa’s trainee, for whom I did vouch.

Alas, ’twas too late, the police had been phoned
about an intruder exceedingly stoned.

The lads and the lasses in blue came at once,
heard my story and promptly proclaimed me a dunce.

“This bloke,” said their sergeant, “is a thief much renowned,
who’s stolen from lots of the folks here around.

“Your neighbours, for instance, those presents are theirs;
the parents had hidden them under the stairs.”

And surely enough, they were not girlish toys;
it turned out the gifts were all purchased for boys.

In handcuffs the Christmas imposter was led
away to the station and a cell’s cheerless bed.

And me? I was left feeling heavy of heart,
till my neighbours pronounced me both cunning and smart.

I’d saved their sons’ presents whilst detaining a thief,
I’d captured a felon causing much yuletide grief.

I’m now deemed a hero, I’ve brought festive cheer;
Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year.

.

.

Paul A. Freeman is the author of Rumours of Ophir, a crime novel which was taught in Zimbabwean high schools and has been translated into German. In addition to having two novels, a children’s book and an 18,000-word narrative poem (Robin Hood and Friar Tuck: Zombie Killers!) commercially published, Paul is the author of hundreds of published short stories, poems and articles.


NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to mbryant@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here.

12 Responses

  1. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    These are huge fun and I especially liked the build up and the intrigue of the “A Christmas Visitor, Revisited” – wonderful! Thank you and a very Merry Christmas to you!

    Reply
    • Paul A. Freeman

      Glad to be able to lighten the mood at this time of year, Susan. A Merry Christmas to you and yours.

      Reply
  2. David Paul Behrens

    Over a decade ago, I used to make up silly rhymes based on children’s songs to amuse my grandkids at Christmas time.

    Example:

    Rudolph the blue-nosed reindeer
    Everybody knows his name
    He used to have a red nose
    It still glows just the same

    All of the other reindeer
    Used to want a red nose too
    They never liked poor Rudolph
    Now they’re glad his nose is blue

    Then one foggy Christmas Eve
    Rudolph stubbed his toe
    He rolled over and bumped his nose
    And he fell down in the snow

    All of the reindeer hugged him
    That was all that they could do
    Rudolph said “O.K., thank you”
    Now his nose is black and blue

    Here’s another:

    Frosty the showman
    He loves to dance and sing
    A snowman in the winter
    But he melted in the spring

    Frosty the showman
    He’s an actor and a clown
    With his black hat and a carrot nose
    He rolls all around the town

    Frosty the showman
    He’s the star of his own show
    So he moved to California
    Where there’s hardly any snow

    Frosty the showman
    Wants to go back home again
    So that he can be a snowman
    For his friends, Rachael and Ben

    Merry Christmas, everyone!

    Reply
    • Paul A. Freeman

      Funnily enough, I also wrote a Frosty sonnet, but I reckon it was deemed a bit too dark, what with Frosty’s black hat turning him into an evil-doing demon.

      Merry Christmas to you, David.

      Reply
  3. Margaret Coats

    “Christmas Visitor” is a well-plotted, amusing tale, especially as it starts with conventional cheer, and goes on through unexpected turns of unconventional imagination. Even better than a Christmas ghost story!

    Reply
    • Paul A. Freeman

      You’re making me blush Margaret. Glad I could entertain you this end of year. A merry Christmas to you.

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.