(Thanks to Taylor Telford)
Santa held a meeting with his top elves just this week;
the forum was long-winded and chock-full of doublespeak.
Suppliers for his toy shop were unable to keep pace;
it looked like Santy would default and lose a lot of face.
Purple paint was lacking and green stickum was depleted;
and tragically all children's dreams of loot would be defeated!
The elfish boss told Santa Claus supply chains were all busted;
container ships were hollow and most warehouses quite rusted.
Unless the truckers hit the road and wholesale prices tumbled
peace on earth, goodwill to men would certainly be jumbled!
"I'll send my reindeer out right now" said Santa with a snort.
"They'll bring supplies from ev'ry depot, factory, and port!"
Presto chango! Santa's deer brought string and sealing wax,
clock springs, flywheels, oakum, and bright silver carpet tacks.
Nisse, pixies, brownies, and a host of elvish kin
went to work with horsehair, dowels, and hand-picked twaddled tin.
Soon the shelves were teeming with toy soldiers and the like;
dollies, baseballs, checker games for ev'ry little tyke . . .
I wish my tattered quill could end this saga with a smile;
to say that good Saint Nicholas delivered with great style.
But after all the foofaraw, these hand-made artifacts
were refused by children like a box of stale borax.
Because the kiddies think of Santa as a mastodon --
they only want the newest apps that come from Amazon!
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