A Christmas Poem From Crusty

All that I remember
From that freezing Christmas Eve,
Was standing at the window,
In a dressing gown, I believe.
As I released the tied back curtains
And closed the vertical blind,
There was only one important question
Running through my mind.
Is there really such a person
As the legend, Santa Claus?
Does he really come down chimneys?
… Does he never use the doors?
Then suddenly, there came a crash and
I was knocked towards the floor,
I didn’t know what on earth it was
But I really was quite sore.
I sat there limp and slightly dazed
Propped against the bedroom wall,
When my hand fell down between my legs
On something round and small;
I tried to focus, with concussed eyes,
On where my hand had led
But I couldn’t make out what was stuck down there
…it was certainly glowing red.
Then suddenly, up my inner thigh
I felt something hard and furry.
Moving up towards my underwear
…Though not in any hurry.
I grabbed the mystery object
Before it reached my lady-garden
And mustered up the vocal strength
To shout, “I BEG YOUR PARDON!”
All my concentration,
It’s literally what it took,
To raise the object higher
So I could take a closer look.
I blinked my eyes, looked straight ahead
Consumed with dread and fear
But was rather shocked, yet quite surprised
To see a red-nosed, bruised reindeer.
Two huge hands, with sparkling nails,
Pulled the reindeer back, quite slow,
And throughout my destroyed bedroom
Echoed a thunderous, ”Ho! Ho! Ho!”
It was then that I finally realised
That what had happened was quite amazing;
Santa hadn't used a chimney …a door
He’d crashed through my double-glazing!!