Sense Sonnet - Pumper

 Chosen Ones

Christmas Eve the hour was late

When down the chimney Santa came.

We Christmas cookies on a plate

Saw Santa's fingers take their aim.

Then two of us, both chocolate chip,

Were the lucky ones Santa chose.

Up toward his mouth we took the trip,

Hearing the sound of "Ho, Ho, Ho"s.

For both of us cookies this be

Highest honor to get we could.

We headed to great destiny,

Knowing our recipe was good.

Before on us Santa did chew,

A selfie with us he did do.