’Twas Christmas Eve and Santa Claus / Was on his annual trip / By reindeer from the cold North Pole / ’Twas not, of course, by ship, / For his landing place this year, / “Aquinnah,” Santa said, / But the reindeer saw no light at all / As usually they had / When in the past he’d chosen it.

Then out across the ocean, Martha’s Vineyard came in view, and St. Nick suggested landing, to all his reindeer crew, in Ocean Park in Oak Bluffs, when they above it flew.

’Twas Christmas Eve and Santa Claus was readying for his trip around the world by reindeer sleigh — not elegant cruise ship.

On Christmas Eve the sky was clear for Santa and for his reindeer.

On Christmas Eve when snow was thick, To Martha’s Vineyard came St. Nick, And all his reindeer wearing masks.

On Christmas Eve, as always, St. Nick was in the sky, And looking down on land and sea with his most practiced eye, To search for landing venues for his reindeer and their sleigh.