When Christmas-time comes round again,
With hail and snow and sleet,
It numbs our hands right blue with cold,
And nips our weary feet.
But Santa, red and plump in cheek,
He’s never cold, nor sick, nor weak.
For Christmas dull and cold with snow
He gathers playful toys,
And puts them in a blood-red bag,
For his little girls and boys.
James Knowles Age 10