‘Twas the night before Campsmas, when all through the office

Not a creature was stirring, not even a Sophie;

The presents were slung under the tree with care,

In the hopes that secret santa soon would be there;

The camps staff were snuggled in their Christmas gear;

Whilst songs about reindeers were sung in their ears;

Even though our brains had settled for a long winter’s nap,

We tried our hardest to be as busy as we could,

When out in reception there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.

Away down the stairs I flew like a flash,

And across the room I went in a dash.

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But the image of a rather dashing reindeer,

Who seemed to be running free,

It look me a long time to realise it was me,

And then, in a twinkling, I heard from afar,

The jangling of bells and a ‘tra-la-la-la’,

I ran with glee towards the sound,

And there I found,

Scattered on the shelves,

A mountain of elves!

This answered our question, to which we did ponder,

“where the presents did come from?”, was no longer our wonder.