Far to the North beneath the ice, comes a rumble, naughty not nice;
Then follows an Earth shattering, splintering quake;
Such ferocious terraforming, the landscape worse for this deforming;
Appearing unto the frozen maelstrom of a Kraken wake;
And from the hole surface two gleaming eyes, red as blood - I tell no lies;
The orbs peer around, across the snow, searching for something, or someone may;
They rise until a creature's hideous head, announcing that it need be fed;
For the mouth and tongue roar and lash, like a siren, and like a whip afray;
On the other side of a hill, village elves wrap presents still;
As Santa in his cottage reads letters by dim candlelight;
On the stove simmers his supper stew, steaming the air into a dew;
All seems well at this o'clock, just one hour until midnight;
The monster stomps, and growls its tune, as it scales the high snow dune;
And looks above the wispy peak, at the scurrying helpers making time;
Pausing brief to work its brain, an primal urge to self restrain;
But no! The ravenous hunger too strong, a hundred years of sleep a crime!
It licks its lips - how it slurps those chops! - it tries to run, but how it flops!
Too weak for this it sorts itself, shaking the snow into dusty flakes;
Harnessing its energy to leap, its enormous limbs deliver something very cheap;
And then it resigns to walking slow, at least until its body wakes;
By and by it made it to the outskirts, around which it furtively skirts;
Its blue bulk would be obvious to all, drawing attention before it could strike;
But then a thought if it could be such - instinctive rolling to gather snow much;
Now it could hide almost in plain view, a big white monster invisible like;
It finds its spot and it waits, but the elves too busy to venture past the gates;
It changes tactic to 'over there', but only meets more of the same 'action';
It edges closer to its prey, bit by bit, until it could get no closer to it;
But then its tummy makes a noise, a furgling gurgle, just a fraction;
'Did you hear something?' asks an elf, pulling a shotgun from the shelf;
'I think I did,' another replies, drawing a saber from a box;
'We cannot allow intruders here! Come out from wherever you are!'
Through the window a hand reaches in, instilling both with catatonic shocks!
'Ring the bells!' cries the first, 'To alert the Boss of this bubble burst!'
'But will he hear them over all the others?' as the second runs for help;
And then some more enter the room, some with rakes and one a broom;
But not before the the hand finds its target, swift followed by a wrenching Yelp!
'Santa! It has him by the throat!' and then he sinks like a boat;
Santa blows some Christmas dust, which finds the Snowman, inducing sneezing;
'Santa! It's let him go!' and he shoots at it with arrow and bow;
Santa throws a snowball hard, which hits its mark, inducing wheezing;
They chase it down and rope it up, with tinsel, string, ribbons, and sticky tape;
And on its head they tie a knot, and its feet they shackle with tarpaulin bags;
The first elf asks where to go with such as this formidable foe?
Santa attaches the reindeer, through the snow the abominable monster drags;
They sally forth to the Caves of Ice, and thence string it twixt stalagtites;
They discuss its origin, and its state, but really don't know what to do?
'We shouldn't further starve it, that's not right. I think we should give it a bite;'
The elves remove the muzzle, and Santa spoons it his supper stew;
But still the question of what next, if only there were a handbook text;
An idea entered the first elf's head: 'Why don't we freeze it like it were?'
So they did, until it was completely solid, and then deep they buried;
Now and then they wake it up, and feed it, then freeze it, then reinter;
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