On an iced chariot oaken,
The Northern myth has awoken,
His grand promise remains unbroken.
Our promise to behave,
But your presence we crave,
Before your return to the ice cave.
Children of the Aryan folk,
A crafted gift for you, bespoke,
Left by the flowing chimney smoke.
With a following of loyal disciples,
Against the dying age cycles,
Blessing the world, kind and archetypal.
Enlightened hearts of believers,
Mankind his eternal receivers,
Cheerful warmth as we become grievers.
A Hyperborean of honour like no other,
Compassion and duty the righteous banner,
Until we meet again, loving Christmas Father.