The bells of winter morning chime bright and clear
Ringing long and loud so that all in Myrken might hear
Though the young boys and the girls will find glee
There is something quite wrong and somewhat eerie
Though presents and candies still sat upon hutches
And a sad little Timmy still had his crutches
Though doors, windows, and sheds are found latched
And the fresh powder snow has hardly been scratched
Every father and mother of the wealthier sort
Would find a their precious gold and silver was short
Surely they noticed on this most auspicious day,
Their purses were lighter, the cause of some dismay
But not much else was missing, not clothes or shoes
And there wasn’t a trace, no manner of clues
The obvious answer was an old children’s tale
Of a white bearded man, riding a midwinter gale
His belly was round and his red robe was long
Hauling a large sack of fruits and toys, he was strong
But despite his vast appearance he is fast and light
And his candle will never wake you, though it is bright
Though who among parents and elders could recall
A winter when the sneaky saint took anything at all
For one who brought toys it’s an unusual splinter
A crime committed by dear Father Winter.