The Night Befoo Chreesmoos

'Twas the night befoo Chreesmoos, and lucky for us,
Jim took out the garbage before catching the bus.

Much caaaandy's been eatin, but much still remains
To deck our oxcart with peppermoo caaaandy canes,

And fill our stockings with chocolates and truffles,
And delicate confections with piping and ruffles.

All we little Bears were sugar-coma-ed to the max
And slept on the sofa rolled onto our backs,

Dreams of sugar plums danced in Blinky's head,
Wondering if he could get dark chocolate instead.

And what were sugar plums anyway? he wondered.
Something to try next time Jim's 'Merican 'Spress was plundered.

Then suddenly what appeared with a clash and a clatter
But a man in red on the fire escape ladder.

"Call 911, call 911," Stompy shouted in distress.
But the Bears' large paws could not just one key press.

Then the man in red called out, "I'm Santa, here to bring toys
To all Bears and rafs and kitties, to all girls and boys."

The Bears stopped dialing, and looked up in wonder,
Ready to consider their response was a blunder.

They invited Santa in, bade him take a seat,
Offered him caaaandy and caaaandy-like treats.

Santa's visit with the Bears was wondrous and dandy,
Then he left them with their deepest desire--lots and lots more caaaandy.