Camping in the woods on Christmas Eve
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Camping in the woods on Christmas Eve


T'was the night before Christmas
And all through the woods,
Not a scout was stirring, they were all being good.

Their sneakers were hung by the camp fire with care.
In hopes the delivery guy, soon would be there…

And I in my Neckerchief,
And Mr._______ in his Cub-Cap,
Had just settled down for a short camping nap,
When deep in the woods there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my sleeping bag,
To see what was the matter.

Away to the tent, I flew, I was scared,
I grabbed a hammer and shovel,
In case it was bear.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Scouter Clause, with some pizza and root beer.
He was a little old scout, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, He was scared of ticks.

More rapid than an Eagle Scout the pizza’s they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name,

Now sausage, now peppers, now onions and pepperoni,
On meatball, on, ham. On, hold the anchovies.
To the top of the tents, to the top of the trees,
Dash away, Dash away, with extra cheese.

As I got to my feet and was turning around,
Into the campsite, he came with a bound.
He was dressed all in uniform from his head to this toes.
His shirt was garnished with badges and bows.







A bundle of pizzas he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a new scout, doing the opening ceremony, for his pack,
His eyes, how they twinkled, His dimples so merry,
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a berry.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old scout,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
Gave out the pizza and then turned with a jerk,
And laying a finger onside of his nose, and checking his compass,
Down the trail he goes,

I sprang to my feet, to the boys gave a whistle and up they all flew, like the down of a thistle.
We ate all the pizza and drank all the soda,
Our stomachs, all felt like they would exploda.
And we heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, Merry Christmas Pack #____, and to all a good night.





Equipment

None, this is a poem

Preparation

None. Read to boys.

Skit ContributorCarolyn Roche

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