Oh yes, oh friends please gather near,
A yuletide tale is what you'll hear,
About a certain special year,
In which my holiday was…Naughty.
I was not but a tender child,
But yet my mind already was wild,
My thoughts were many, my cranium piled,
With ideas that were…Naughty.
My mother-dear had taken me,
To the plaza, someone I'd see,
Someone, oh yes, who could it be?
I felt so joyous…and Naughty.
We journeyed to our hometown mall,
I'd waited for this jaunt since fall,
It would be a recall, above all,
That would leave me feeling…Naughty.
I'd meet a certain man that night,
With suit of red and beard of white,
I would try for "Nice" with all my might,
But, alas, I would be…Naughty.
My mother-dear led me inside,
The center, colored in decorations pied,
T'was such a sight I almost cried,
My heart felt warm…and Naughty.
I waited in line with unhinged glee,
Who was this man I was to see?
An innocent smile washed over me,
A smile that said…Naughty.
And then I saw him, he sat alone,
Upon his blood-red tinted throne,
Little did he know, that I was prone,
To being slightly…Naughty.
He wore a suit of fuzzy red,
A white trimmed cap adorned his head,
And he, clearly, was not underfed,
And hair that made me feel…in that way.
His beard was snowy, frosty white,
As fluffy as a cloud mid-flight,
I filled with such a bright delight,
And was inspired to be…Naughty.
Dressed up in my winter best,
I clutched my razor to my chest,
I would act on, I must confess,
A scheme that was…impolite.
While other sat on his lap and cried,
I sat on his lap quite mystified,
My heart, it swelled, my eyes grew wide,
Then, abruptly, I was…Naughty.
My toy unsheathed, quicker than quick,
Then it drove every lock off old Saint Nick,
The children they cried, the parents were sick,
But I was feeling quite…Naughty.
Oh happy day, how lovely it was!
To remove every tuff of Kris Kringle's fuzz,
I was shaving a legend, a myth his beard was,
Christmas spirit filled me, and it felt…Naughty.
Yet, alas, they dragged me away,
They were not impressed by my joyous display,
But was my heart crushed? Oh no, not today!
Nothing could ruin my...particular disposition.
Alas, my sock was filled with coal,
Delivered to me straight from the North Pole,
"Merry Christmas, You Freak", wrote Santa quite droll,
I was on the list labeled…Naughty.
But did this distress me? No, not in the slightest!
It is indeed Christmas when my spirit shines brightest,
And though my stocking never will be the lightest,
'Tis the season to be…Naughty.
Happy Christmas,
With Love,
Fred