Meeting Santa on the Waves of Tory

This lovely poem is from a Democrat 'It Occurs To Me' column written by Frank Galligan, which was first published on December 13th, 2007, this poem is entitled 'Meeting Santa on the waves of Tory'. 

We rowed out to rescue him one stormy Christmas Eve,

He’d come somehow on a leaky boat, without a by your leave,

“He’s not due till the morra,” Big Manus laughed, “A never saw the like”

Where, I wondered, was his bag, and my brand new Raleigh bike?

Toraigh na dTonn rose up in its wrath, our boat rocked to and fro,

Balor, the one-eyed God, breathed fire, and blew us high and low,

When, just beyond Sheephaven Sound, we spied the listing sleigh,

Big Manus roared: “It’s him, all right, but Rudolf’s clean away!”

We dragged the soaking bearded saint between our straining oars,

And heard the sleigh being sucked down deep, and Balor’s vengeful roars,

I cursed the Waves of Tory, and the North Atlantic swell,

As Santa lay without a ‘ho’…and two other ‘ho’s’ as well!

As dawn broke like a new birth over beautiful Mulroy,

The only sound was the breathing of the little sailor boy,

In awe, he stared at a rubber ball, a jigsaw and a kite,

And the salt-encrusted seaweed ‘round a brand new Raleigh bike.