Stocking Stuffer

Stocking Stuffer

What happened to the Christmas stockings?
We hung them so carefully there.
Were the doors that I thought I was locking,
keeping out just the wintry night air?

Nothing else in the house has gone missing -
both computers and TVs are here
and the silver is safe in the sideboard -
just the stockings.  Now isn't that queer?

Shall I tell the police what was stolen?
Is it worthwhile to make a report?
On the floor, I am sure, they'd be rollin'
after making a clever retort.

Then I heard on the roof a faint clatter
and I wondered just what it could be.
Can it be I've gone mad as a hatter?
Something new just appeared 'neath the tree!

In a flash - without one thought of stalling -
'cross the room to the presents I sprang
toward the box that was audibly calling
with a song like the Sirens once sang.

In a trice I had shredded the wrapping,
the mysterious gift was laid bare.
Then I leapt about shouting and clapping -
the lost stockings, as if from thin air!

Then my eye fell upon a short letter
that had gone from the box to the floor:
"Santa hopes these will serve you much better,
as he's sized them to hold even more!"