Elf poem

Hi Everyone, my offering today was influenced by another poem by Gill Reed about an elf! He was tired of snow, I wonder how many of you are?

image - Tired Elf by Elizabeth Dulemba 

papers and beer - Pixel Scrapper

tree - Kit Cart Designs

sentiment - Gingers House

Distress ink

markers - Spectrum Noir

Ooops I forgot to add the photo!

ELF

Santa’s Little Helper was tired of the snow

And being elf sufficient, he found a place to go.

To leave the Pole he thought would be a barr-elf-ul of laughs,

If only he could find himself on someone else’s staff.

 

In his dreams he saw himself an elf-made millionaire,

The welfiest elf you’ve ever met, with skills beyond compare.

A career in hospitality was his big idea

An empire built on cocktails, spirits, wine and beer.

 

He found a bar in Benidorm and named the place El Fin,

He put a sign beside the door, “We are open, now, come in.

Rest your feet, have a drink and be our special guest,

I personally guarantee, elf service of the best.”

 

But elves make toys, they don’t mix drinks, elf discipline went to pot

Santa’s little helper, very soon lost the plot.

Elf and safety laws were never on his mind

And very soon his guests took sick – the salmonella kind.

 

The police arrived, arrested him, for causing an offense

In court the judge declared, “There is no elf defence.

I say it every time,” she said, “punishment must fit the crime.

A life behind bars is what you’ll get, your pour decisions you will regret.”

 

This had to go into the Sisterhood of Snarky Stampers