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Wrapped in vines of the wudzel, in the woods of Wonover
Hides a cozy little stone house, where live Ma and Pa Dover
It is built safe in a nook where the large gnarlywoods loom
And outside the front door Ma Dover props her straw broom
For the sweeping of wudzels from the path where they stray
Those sweet smelling blossoms felled by songbirds at play
Wudzel clings to the chimney, wudzel drapes from the eaves
With blossoms no less lovely than it's oddly shaped leaves
Out in the meadow little lambs nibble wudzel fodder
And busy little honey bees carry wudzel to their larder
It is constantly growing, it's tendrils grasping and poking
Upsetting Papa Dover, who is red faced and choking
He labored to remove it, he chopped and he tugged
But the harder he worked, the more tightly it hugged
Not even the stout chimney could peek out above
It soon sported wudzel like the hand sports a glove
Until naught could be seen of the stone house of Dover
In it's cradle, in the wudzel, in the woods of Wonover
Early one night in the winter, in the woods of Wonover
Frost was clinging to the wudzel and snow lay all over
The wind was piling drifts on the north walls of the trees
And the poor wudzel was freezing clear up to it's knees
When out beyond the thicket there sounded such a fuss
That little Anna and Zen Dover awakened fearing the wuss
Little Zen dressed in his jammies and Anna dressed in hers too
Arose from their beds saying: "I heard something, did you?"
They pushed a chair to the window and climbed up on their toes
And looked out among the wudzel, out to where the wind blows
And there in the snowdrift, floundered the oddest 'Ol chap
Red suit, white beard and a strange looking cap
He appeared to be lost, or at the least he was looking
For something, or someone, or somewhere or nothing
He dropped a large sack onto the snow by his knees
Staring hard at the wudzel and the gnarlywood trees
He scratched at his head, and he rubbed at his chin
Then hoisted the heavy sack to his shoulder again
"I know it should be here," he said with a frown
"Each year I search for it, but it cannot be found."
"I think it's a burglar!" whispered little Anna to Zen
"Quick! Let's latch the door before he breaks in."
As they leapt from the chair, and raced for the door
The chair toppled over, and went 'WHAM' on the floor
"Oh Goodness," whispered Anna to her small brother Zen
"Could he have heard us? Will he now try to break in?
They crouched by the door for fifty-nine ticks of the clock
And all the while their hearts were racing 'knockity-knock'
When beyond the thick door, there sounded a low chuckle
And the gent who was there rapped with his knuckle
"Hello inside the house," called that jolly elf on the stoop
"You've a visit from Father Christmas and his reindeer troup."
With her brother as a footstool little Anna climbed up to where
She could see through the peephole with her big blue-eyed stare
"You are not Santa," said she with a scowl. "You are a clown"
"I saw a clown once, at a big carnival in town."
"Clowns have red noses and they wear silly boggins."
"But I do not like them. They have bats in their noggins."
"Oh dear me," said Santa with a very deep sigh
"If a clown hears you say that, he'll most surely cry."
"Oh they do that," said she. "Clowns laugh and cry and do silly things."
"They fall down a lot and sometimes they even pretend to have wings."
"I see," said Santa. "You dislike clowns, and your mind is set."
"And you would be young Dover, I'd make a fair bet?"
"Yes. I am Anna. My little brother Zen is here too."
"But we are not allowed to talk to strangers like you."
"I assure you I am Father Christmas and I bring gifts for your tree."
"I will just be a moment, for I have many other houses to see."
"Oh no," answered Anna. "Santa doesn't visit us here."
"I would know. I have lived here all of four years."
"That is true," said Santa, "but the blame is not mine."
"You've been hiding from Christmas beneath a large vine."
"How do I know," asked Anna, "that you are not lying to me."
"And besides, with no Christmases, we do not have a tree."
"Never a Christmas," Santa sighed. "And such a clever young yam."
"For not taking a strangers word for it, that I am who I am."
"Go awaken your parents, and tell them Santa has brung them a tree."
"Oh we cannot," replied Anna, "They are away don't you see."
"Our neighbor Widow Grey, fell and injured her hip."
"So they went to assist her. It's only a short trip."
"Good Night Mr Christmas. If that's who you are."
"I hope you make it home safely, and don't get eat by a b'ar."
"Oh, and do watch your step, as good manners will teach you"
"Or you'll wake up the wudzel and it'll grab you and eat you."
"Good Night," replied Santa, "and many thanks for the warning."
"Pleasant dreams to ye' both and a wondrous good morning!"
Little Anna and Zen climbed back in their beds
And had tucked themselves in, with their caps on their heads
Little Anna was counting sheep as they passed through the fold
Little Zen was sawing logs up, for to fend 'gainst the cold
The Sandman was flying his white horse through their dreams
When the night was interrupted, by blood curdling screams
"Oh Lordy!" Exclaimed Anna. "What could it be now?"
"Has the wudzel gotten hungry? Is it eating our cow?"
She leapt out of bed, with Zen soon beside her
And the two children together tip-toed to the parlor
Lo and behold! The fireplace was trickling down toys
And out from the chimney was coming a loud noise:
"Help! Help! It has me! I'm being eaten alive!"
"Somebody please save me or I'll never survive!"
"Is that you Father Christmas," called little Anna from below."
"Yes," Santa answered. "Can you make this nightmare let go?"
"Are you caught in the wudzel," asked Anna. "See? It's true."
"If you wake up the wudzel, it will grab you and eat you."
"Oh dear me," sighed Santa. "Isn't this a fine mess I am in?"
"And I was only trying to bring Christmas to yourself and Zen."
"I'm sorry Santa. If papa was here he could chop you free."
"But this is too big a chore for my brother and me."
"Of course you are right," replied Santa. "But how will I deliver my toys"
"How will I honor my promise to all the good girls and boys?"
"Could I implore you," asked he, "brave lads that you be,"
"To go and fetch my reindeer behind yon tanglewood tree."
"It isn't far and you'll have the moon for a light."
"If you speak their names they'll mind you alright."
"Maybe. Just maybe. The boys can pull me free"
"Before this wicked wudzel makes a wicker of me."
Dressed in their mittens, coats, knickers, and boots
Little Anna and Zen stumbled across the tanglewood roots
When out past the tanglewood tree, what should appear
Naught, but Santa's sleigh, and his eight tiny reindeer
There was Comet, and Cupid, and Donner, and Blitzen
And Dasher, and Dancer, and Prancer, and Vixen
They climbed into the driver's seat, but neither child could whistle,
So they urged on the team with the stalk of a thistle
Now, Dashuh! now, Dansuh! now, Pwansuh! and Vixen
On, Komet! on, Koopid! on, Donnuh and Bwitzen!
To the top of the hill, to the top of the twee!
Now, dash away, dash away, dash away, wheeeeeeee!
Perhaps this explains the mishaps of that odd Christmas eve
The night bah humbugs recanted and came to believe
For that night, a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer and two jolly elves
Rattled the windows of houses, and rocked beans off the shelves
Outdoors, scrambled the children, where fell gifts from the sky
And everyone saw plainly, that, reindeer can fly!
With the jingle of sleigh bells and loud mirthful cries
They greeted each stop with, Hallo's and Goodbye's
Twice 'round the steeple and once o'er the tower
They delivered all the toys before the tick of the hour
But loudly they exclaimed as they drove out of sight,
"There is a Santa Clause evewybody! We saw him, tonight!"
With their courser's exhausted from that high spirited run,
They returned to Wonover to assist in getting Santa undone
There, the reindeer discovered that wudzel fodder is sweet
And no sooner had they landed, than they set in to eat
Soon, Santa was freed, and the wudzel of Wonover
Was removed from the house and made into Stover
Little Anna and Zen climbed back in their beds
And tucked themselves in, with their caps on their heads
Little Anna was counting sheep as they passed through the fold
Little Zen was sawing logs up, for to fend 'gainst the cold,
The Sandman was flying his white horse through their dreams
When, Ma and Pa returned home to find Christmas, it seems
For a tree was erected in the middle of the room,
All decorated in trinkets, like a rainbow in bloom
Stockings were filled, and gifts were piled in a heap
While upstairs, the children were both sound asleep
But papa Dover insisted he got the best gift of them all,
For his sturdy home had no wudzel clinging to it at all
Meanwhile, Santa, returning to his home in the north,
Discovered he disliked the gases wudzel fodder puts forth,
Guiding his reindeer, with his one free hand on his nose,
He felt thankful he lived someplace that no wudzel grows
But wudzel seed, don't you know, sprout any place that they fall
And Santa's reindeer had eaten wudzel, stem, seeds, and all
So 'Merry Christmas' Santa, from Our family to yours
And may our blessings be with you on all of your tours
I hope our gift brings color to your drab icy north
And helps feed your reindeer from this day forth
If you'd like to thank us, just zoom right on over
We'll break out the eggnog! Signed: Anna and Zen Dover
THE END
HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE
(Many fond wishes for the new year.)
George L. Avery
12/24/00
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