Old Father Frost

By the crunching ov the cold 

An eerie fog takes hold 

Shaking the tears from old dead Nicholas 

Buried in Finnish robes 

With one eye — a lone lantern sought 

Luminous volumes of holy light, 

Under Narnian Post - wrought with woe 

On your last sight by known bedside. 

O' murderous longing, which pushes pen, 

As the stabbing kiss by crystal snow, 

To end thy self as a dying sun 

Igniting angels by yuletide goat. 

Take this night in icy palms 

Tolled by ghosts of yore, 

Doom be written on the brow 

But beware the boy at present -- the most. 

An elvish glow, with Haddon's Cola bowl, 

Hinke and Rockwell paint. 

For Colombia's growth and Marianne's soul 

Nast first lied by hand with each face. 

With a slice by Jack's artic-stinging jab 

Saint Jolly's peppermint bones turn to plum 

In the bleak midwinter 

Returning Holly to cinder 

& 'tis the Eve stripped ov wantings robe. 

- Oh, Look! What's this?