The Night the Elves Danced In Branson

The Night the Elves Danced In Branson

As Kurt ‘n Kall sat round the table

Telling of tales, story and fable

Christmas to be, present and past

This tale is told, this story cast

Of the oft related night upon the strip

When Roy Clark as Santa, cracked his whip

So now my children sit, listen and hear

Not of the midnight ride of Paul Revere

But rather a delightful and fanciful tale

Of an almost Christmas that ought to be

The night that Branson when into history.

Twas the night before Christmas and all round the town

Not a singer was stirring, not even Bandy the Clown.

Andy’s sock was hung by the chimney with care

In hopes that Ann Margaret would soon be there.

The ticket masters were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of filled theaters danced in their heads.

Anne in her ‘kerchief and Jim in his cap

The Staffords were settled, for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the strip there arose such a clatter

Jimmy Osmond asked the brothers, what was the matter?

Up to the strip, I drove like a flash

It sounded like a party, a fete, no, a bash

Elves dancing on shiny, new-fallen snow

Gave gaiety to the lights and neons aglow.

When what to my sleep swollen eyes should appear

Roy Clark, a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

Roy, as a driver was lively and quick

I knew in a moment, he must be St. Nick.

More rapid than tourists driving the strip

He yelled, cajoled and cracked the whip.

Now Delene, Now Dalena

I get them confused

Now Denny, now Dino

At the Grand Palace too

On Bill, on Joe, on Dan and Gail

Too many Lennons, too many, too many to know

Upward, onward and faster we go.

Onward, onward we go through the snow

Delivering presents above and below.

As the winds swirled the flakes

And the drifts mounted high

The Branson reindeer verily flew through the sky

While Delene and Dalena, were leading the pack

Roy, as St. Nick, was still in the back

The sleigh was full of all sorts of candy

Toys, sleds, Barbies and everything dandy.

At each house where they stopped to leave loot

Roy kept complaining of soot on his suit.

Roy had a nice suit of sequins, stitching and stone

With a banjo on one arm and toys in his sack

The man was a sight that stood out alone.

He sang about a Greyhound and someone gone.

As he crooned his song he flashed a big smile

That thawed the snow, what a look of beguile.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old Roy

No fancy diet for this country boy.

As he tugged, pulled and handled the sack

The banjo was always strapped on his back.

Then the silence was broken by a ring of his cell

As Paul Harris, the loudest elf in the dell

Said Santa, St. Nick, no, I guess it is Roy

You are late for your date with Kurt ‘n Kall

They are waiting in the wings for your wisdom in words

Tell them now, tell them much, and please tell them all.

He hustled and bustled and made the snow fly

As he finished the homes in Branson on nigh

As he cracked the whip , the Branson reindeer flew

Through the sky, to the route they so well knew

So contrary to lore that has been through the ages

Through Clement Clarke Moore as he wrote many pages

The last words of Santa as he left Branson out of sight

Was not, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

The last words, as far as anyone could tell

Was, “The traffic, the shows, gee it was swell.”

As we tell of this tale, so delightful and true

Branson isdraped in red, white and blue

Larry Gatlin and the Brothers are now in Iraq

Singing to our troops as they guard us in mass

To let them know that we will welcome them back

While we sit snug with our families round the table

Reading the story of Christ, born in a stable.

We would do good to pause and to think

Of the many chairs that will be empty this year

We hope that Iraq will be found and gave cheer

By Roy (oops!) Santa and his eight tiny reindeer.

So after this Branson tale is told

We sit in warmth keeping in from the cold

Lady Kall and myself would like to wish

Each and every one who reads this story

To remember the reason, the season and glory

Of the child who was born to the world in a manger

So that in heaven you would be no stranger.

From Kurt L. and Lady Kall

A Merry Christmas

We wish you, each and all

Along with a lot of boundless cheer

For a great, happy and prosperous, brand New Year

© 2003, Gampy’s Gang Productions INC