Ray Christmas Poem

For the passed few years I have taken time to write a cheesy poem to make some smiles. I read it wearing a Grinch-like wreath hats at Christmas dinner at my Nana's house. Every member of my Ray family and their spouses take a bit of a roast. Anyway. It probably won't make complete sense to anyone, but I hope my family members are able to pick out which jab belongs to them. Here ya go folks.

Santa was worried as he pulled on his glove,

would be recognize the new Rocking R from above?

He sped thru the sky with his bag in his hand,

just when he spotted the perfect place to land.

It was a neatly groomed grass with a diamond in it,

 yes, this would be great, my sleigh will just fit.

He stopped just a moment he had to look twice,

"Wonder if that beaut of a wall can be fashioned with ice?"

He crept close to the house where the builder slept within,

and with a shove he left her 5 burly maintenance men.

As he walked away he noticed a steamy hot tub,

for the gent roasting inside, a new snake bashing club.

Up the street just a ways bright lights lit up a place,

he rushed to see it with yuletide on his face.

For this sweet lady, the most pricy gift yet,

a golden feather bed...oh, but it was for her pet.

At the 246 he lifted the blinds to take a peep,

for the beautiful brunette, her gift this year was sleep.

Beside her was her husband, a  handsome young fox,

so he worked very quickly to match up his socks.

To the sweet little toots tucked sweetly in between them,

A superfab saber and lots of army men.

He ran up the hill on the slightly frozen ground,

Yikes oh mighty, what was that sound??

He noted the sound had him almost hypnotized,

it was a snore from a gent that he knew he recognized.

In the icebox he placed a  most large box of ice cream,

He knew the man would smile so big, his mustache it would gleam.

Down the hall slept a guy dreaming of his favorite show,

for this defender, he left a Dixon crossbox.

And for the lady of the house he left under the tree,

A large hefty mug, and 2 tons of coffee.

As his trip at this house drew to its end,

the sweet little missy got herself a fur real friend.

The house tucked away beside a fire chief and a yuppy,

 help a sweet little family and a fiesty little puppy.

He had the perfect gift here never to be topped,

a prime rubber bike that bounced when it was dropped.

For the genius sweetheart, he saved the best part,

a big pretend F so her cousins felt smart.

He noticed in his bag was not nearly enough,

the Mama living here has sure had it rough.

He snuck over close, he didn't want to miss,

for this kind hearted beauty he planted a kiss.

He ran out the door his sleigh just in reach,

now he was headed to the cold snowy Beech.

He raced to their home as quick as a flash,

to hang the medal for "a year with no crash!"

Poor Santa was tired and began to fret,

the next house was his most difficult yet.

The pull up this mountain would have killed most men,
the temperture was crisp and the air so thin.

His sack was moving, so full and fat,
for the girlie inside he left 10 orphaned cats.

He folded neatly for the young little sir,
a lifetime supply of Under Armour.

For the beautiful Ma'am well her time had come,
a years worth of Yoga and chewable Valium.

Next he worked quickly as not to be seen,
to groom and construct a PGA putting green.

He landed in Charlotte on a nicely groomed lawn,
but as he opened his bag...the gifts were all gone.

The gift for this house the elves didn't make,
he smiled, clicked his phone, and a selfie he'd take.

 "Merry Christmas!" he shouted, and flew into the air,
"Don't get sick this year Rays, because Obama won't care!"