Ode To Geek In Boots Poem by Bob Bradley

It is the eve
Santa's ready to leave
To spread his Christmas joy

He combs his beard
Checks his breath
Quickly pops in a mint
And then exclaims I near forgot
My Christmas list to print

Walks to his desk
Takes a seat
Opens up the file
Instead of print he hits delete
His scream could be heard near a mile

What will I do?
I cannot say
I fear I've ruined this special day

When in from the kitchen
Appeared an apparition
And she was heard to state
I am Geek in Boots
I hope that I have not arrived too late

Step aside big man
Get out of my way
I'm here to save this glorious day

And just as swiftly as she implored
She had that list *completely restored

Santa's thanks could not be measured
He said your gift must needs be treasured

He turned to face his benefactor
But could only glimpse her leave through the backdoor
But as she left she yelled to St. Nick
"Next time be careful where you click."

*For some unknown reason
Perhaps a faulty device
She was unable to restore the data
Of who is naughty and who is nice