There once was a writer named Elf,
Who wanted to see all his books up on the shelf.
In bookstores and in homes
He wanted his stories to roam.
So he hid them among Santa’s present wealth.
There once was a writer named Elf,
Who wanted to see all his books up on the shelf.
In bookstores and in homes
He wanted his stories to roam.
So he hid them among Santa’s present wealth.
All that sweetness and light
can give you such a fright.
Sneaking over to your bed
to stab you before daylight.
So when you go to bed
don’t turn your little head.
For that elf on the shelf
will make sure you wake up dead.
Then a zombie you will be
lumbering ’round the Christmas tree
searching for some brains
or other presents not meant for thee.
O’ beware that elf on the shelf!
He’s just all about himself.
He’s sweetly, creepy insane
and out to ruin your health.
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday, poetry by author