"Why don't Santa use horses?" my daughter asked with a frown.
She wanted an answer, so I sat her right down.
I stopped and I pondered how to get this right,
For Santa was due not much later that night.
Well Hon, it ain't easy to be Santa you see,
He has millions of presents to deliver this eve.
When I was your age, I had that question too,
'cause it seemed to make sense to use a nag like Ol' Blue.
I thought I could lend him my best pard to use,
So I sent him a letter and gave him the news:
"Ol' Blue would be happy to help pull your sleigh,
But if you switch to horses, then you have to haul hay.
"You can't go out in your red Santa stuff,
For Blue mightn't like it and ride kind of rough.
You'd hafta wear spurs and the right kinda boot,
Not black rubber galoshes and a red velvet suit.
"A ten gallon hat would also be needed,
Not that red floppy thing that has so far succeeded.
And gloves, not mittens, would be par for the course.
You'll need all your fingers to ride my ol' horse.
"Ol' Blue can be ornery and sometimes quite nasty,
So mount him with care and don't be to hasty.
Oh yeah: He don't fly, so don't try to make him,
If ya think you can force him your bones he'll be breakin.
"Reindeer are nice, but you can't beat a horse,
To steer you around a straight and true course.
So anyway Santa, just write me a letter,
If you like my plan and think Ol' Blue would work better."
So I licked me a stamp and I stuck it in place,
Then I sent it to Santa with a smile on my face.
I didn't hafta wait long for long for he answered right quick,
His reply wasn't long, but the package was thick.
"Do you hate me?" it said with a really said tone
"Do you want me to break all my Santa Claus bones?
Your nag sounds a nightmare; like pain is his goal,
Now here is your present," and out poured black coal.
So learn from me darling, and don't irk St. Nick,
If you want a good present, not a big bag of ick.
Santa has a system that has helped steer his course,
He don't want advice and he don't want a horse.