A Kayaker's Kristmas
The time's drawing nigh to load Santa's sleigh,
But it seems there's a problem, by his look of dismay.
He's checking things over, to be sure nothing's missed,
But it's becoming apparent, that some imp's changed his list.
No teddies, no dolls, no games, bikes or balls,
In fact, he sees none of his usual haul.
Puzzled he stands and surveys the collection,
Trying to make sense of this strange selection.
Tight rubber 'skirts', an odd dress called a 'cag',
Bright coloured ropes coiled neatly in bags.
Gloves, vests and hoods made of black neoprene,
His cheeks glowing red as he ponders that scene.
A selection of kayaks, all shiny and sleek,
A Greenland style paddle looks sexy and chic.
Dry-bags and pumps and a new PFD,
A stranger collection, he never did see.
Meanwhile, the Paddlers are tucked in their beds,
Waterborne visions adrift in their heads.
Their booties are hung (they've been freshly cleaned),
The room subtly scented with wet neoprene.
And on each sleeping Paddler, a secretive smile,
They know this Christmas will be -
Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy Paddling :)