The Christmas Spud

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A couple years ago I penned this after a secret Santa gave me a......potato?

I turned it into a Christmas Tale:

The Christmas Spud

In the land of potatoes, the spuds were in bed
Waiting for Santa to come in his sled
And bring lots of presents and toys for the tots
The taters loved Christmas, yes, they loved it lots

But that Christmas eve, in the dark of the night
A fog settled in, obscuring the site
Of the little spud town, and the little spuds said
“How will Santa find us, when he flies overhead?”

Then a brave young potato, with a spark in his eyes
Said “I can get Santa down here from the skies
We’ll lure him with smell, for it’s no surprise,
Everyone knows he likes hot steaming fries!”

The potatoes all cheered the spud with the good heart
And carried him over to the Cuisinart
And in no time at all, the hot fries were done
And Santa did find them, and gave gifts to each one

And as St. Nick flew away, with his reindeer and sled
He turned to the spuds, and he quietly said
“Have a wonderful holiday, I send you warm wishes,
And oh, by the way, your fries were delicious”
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