Dear Santa, don’t believe her
When she says that I’ve been nosey
When she comes in from the cold outside
Her cheeks all pink and rosy.
Of course I have to have a sniff
Whenever I must greet her…
I feel that is incumbent
On a small dog of my metre.
She says my nose gets everywhere
In places that it shouldn’t…
Perhaps if she would keep her fur on
Then my cold nose wouldn’t.
But if she has to change her fur
Or get in steamy water,
Then I, a dog, will wield my nose
Just as a Small Dog ought to!
The Great Dog in the sky
Gave me a nose that I should use it…
You can’t ignore a gift like that…
That would be to abuse it.
The gifts bestowed upon us
We should use to make us shine.
(And Santa, as we’re talking gifts…
Can I have cheese with mine?)
P.S. Laughter Lines would make a great Christmas gift…