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|The Holiday Express
Some think, when Santa goes on his way,
He makes his rounds in a holiday sleigh;
That across the midnight sky he flies
'Mid sleigh bell chimes and reindeer sighs.
But, as for me, I'd hazard a guess
He travels, instead, by Holiday Express.
A train would be the way I'd go
To make deliveries in the snow.
Though, not on a sterile, modern thing,
But an engine built when train was king -
A black locomotive, trailing steam,
With steel and brass shined to a gleam.
(The kind g-grandpa used to ride
When he rolled across the countryside.)
A workshop on wheels, the elves all on board,
Making last minute gifts while the steam engine roared;
Slowly and stealthily pulling into each station,
Where helpers would wait with anticipation.
After Santa unloaded the appropriate packs,
With a wave of his hand, he'd be off down the tracks;
Warm and protected from snow, sleet and rain...
Speeding through time on his Holiday Train!