A Florida Christmas
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town.
No roses were frozen, no snow fluttered down,
No children in flannels were tucked into bed.
They all wore shorty pajamas instead.
To find wreathes of holly was not hard,
For holly wreathes grow in every back yard.
In front of the house were Daddy and Mom,
Decorating the Crotons and Coconut palms.
The sleeping kiddies were dreaming with glee,
Hoping to find water skis under the tree.
They all knew that Santa was well on the way,
In a red and white Mustang, instead of a sleigh.
He whizzed up the highway and zoomed up the road
In a snappy convertible delivering his load.
For he hadn't a moment to linger and shirk,
As he jumped from the car, he gave a chuckle,
He was dressed in Bermudas, with an Ivy League Buckle.
There weren't any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
For Santa came into the Florida room.
He stopped at each house, stayed only a minute,
Emptying his bag of the toys that were in it.
Before he departed he treated himself,
To a glass of orange juice left on the shelf.
He turned with a bounce and leaped in his car,
Remembering he still had to go very far.
Turning the key and lighting the dash,
Up Interstate 4, he went like a flash.
But we heard him exclaim, as he went on his way,
Merry Christmas y'all, I wish I could stay.