The Foiling Santa

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the harbor

Only palm trees were stirring, on the island to starboard

No stockings were hung on the lifelines with care;

There was never a thought that St. Nick would be there.

Now Paul in his board shorts, and I in my robe

Had just settled in for a toast to the cove,

When far out offshore there arose such a clatter,

We sprang from our seats to see what was the matter.

We stood on the stern and stared into the night;

Over moon-glinted ocean, a wave-sparkled sight

Just visible now, foiling toward us with ease

Came a red wing so large, it could do as it pleased

With plenty of speed, never dropping off foil,

The red be-robed rider approached at a boil 

I closed my eyes tight and awaited the crash,

But instead what I heard was a Ho-Ho-Ho laugh!

Before we could even call out an ahoy, 

This red-hatted figure was speeding right by

Closer and closer he got to the beach

Then tacked away smoothly without crash or breach

As he whooshed past again, we let out a cheer

For in showing his skills, he’d brought gifts to those near

All too soon he was gone from our tropical scene

And I wondered if this was just rum-induced dream

But then more shouts came from the boats right next door

“Thanks Foiling Santa!” and “Come back for more!” 

While from out of the darkness, an answer uncoiled:

“Merry Christmas, to all! And to all, a good foil.”