Christmas poem for Chevy truck owners.
T'was the night before Christmas,
an old Chevy sits in my garage,
No Fords, or Lincolns,
Not even a Dodge,
My classic truck was polished perfection,
hoping to pass Santa's inspection,
4 new tires were placed by the chimney with care
hoping St. Nicholas would fill them with air.
When all of a sudden
there was a thunderous roar,
Santa started my truck
and opened the garage door.
With a wink of his eye,
he sped off out of sight,
My stepside was gone
in the dark of the night!
I awoke the next morn,
my mind full of fear.
Did Santa trade my truck
for eight tiny reindeer?
Then all became clear
as I opened the door.
Santa preferred reins and a sleigh
to my 4 on the floor.
I grinned a big smile
at what I found inside.
T'was a note from Santa sayin'
"thanks for the joyride"
He'd filled my garage with presents galore.
A new carb and some spark plugs.
He left my keys in the door.
The note clearly said
that he'd not return soon,
but he promised to visit
on a warm night this June.
Said he'd be wearin' Bermuda shorts,
and a shirt Mrs Claus would be choosin'
I should have the tank full
'cause he wants to go cruisin'.
Merry Christmas!
