So, who's next?

SANTA VS. THE SNOWMAN A story that you might believe, This happens every Christmas eve It’s when the winner gets to drive the sleigh. After all the daylight’s gone Just before there’s any dawn These two meet up without the need to play. No cause for fear or false alarm For down the road from Tucker’s Farm One of them is going to have his say. It seems this most amazing duel That happens every frosty Yule Is quite bizarre in nearly every way. The story that my father told Long ago, ‘cause now I’m old Was, “Santa doesn’t always drive the sleigh.” One night, I wandered to the farm Hoping that I’d face no harm And what I saw, I must explain today. To the left, old Santa stood As though he were a block of wood His face a somber shade of pewter gray. Not far away, up near the oak Adjacent to a gleaming cloak Frosty mulled this moment, said “OK.” Santa hunkered by the fence As now the battle would commence And I could tell that this was hardly play. The man in red