If Santa's elves were 9 feet tall,
there wouldn't be much room at all
for them to pack the Christmas sleigh --
They'd just get in each others' way.
And putting toys into the sack,
they'd bump into each other -- Smack!
Or trip a fellow elf as he
was dancing 'round with Christmas glee.
Congestion would be aggravating
with elfish hearts all palpitating.
For every step they tried to take,
such groanin', moanin' they would make!
Then, if they all fell in a tangle,
Quite upside down, their feet would dangle.
It seems a better thing by far
for every elf to be a star __
A little fellow, lean and nimble,
not much bigger than a thimble,
For tiny folk can work together,
even dressed for North Pole weather.
Wrapped in a scarf, with woolen hose,
Breathing frost from a tiny nose,
they skitter to and fro in fun,
then take a bow when the job's all done.
There's no one better to pack the sleigh
and send old Santa on his way.
Smallish elves are all the best --
When work is done, then they may rest.
I close this ode with words to the wise:
The best elves of all are the little guys!