She Came Upon a Midnight Clear (That Gory Lass, Gryla, of Old)

Midnight, and the whispers begin

The naughty kids cower in fear

Gryla is coming to feast on their sin 

The ogre- troll soon will appear

Fifteen tails, three heads with three eyes 

And horns of a goat at each side

Ears to her nose, sniffing demise 

The naughty have nowhere to hide

Mouth like a quarry, teeth as stone 

A hunger for flesh boiled in broth 

Grinding to powder every bone

Enjoying their bubble and froth 

Beards on each chin braided as twigs 

A foul anthem seethed in her harm

Iceland's children, her little pigs

And tenderness she plans to farm 

Leaving the mountain set to eat

The giantess has bags on each tail

Filling them full with mortal meat

She laughs as they bellow and wail

Clicking and clacking, hooves for feet 

Exasperate horror and dread

Smirking and smacking, oh, the treat 

For soon boys and girls will be dead 

Yule Lads, thirteen, hover around

The offspring of Gryla's design 

Sneaking and snatching, they have found

Employment's mischievous shrine 

Sheep Cote Clog fancies wooly sheep

And Gully Gawk downs the cow's milk

Stubby takes pies he plans to keep

And Spoon Licker steals his name's ilk

Pot Scraper ravages old food 

And Bowl Licker licks clean the bowl

Door Slammer wakes you, being quite rude

And Skyr Gobbler gobbles things whole 

Window Peeper keeps a look out

As Sausage Swiper swipes the pork

Doorway sniffer sniffs bread about 

And Meat Hook takes food off the fork

Candle Stealer steals all the light 

And leaves naughty kids in the dark

Gryla comes this unholy night 

Her children have left her their mark 

Once her new catches fill her need 

A summons ensures blood goes 'splat'

Beastly brutality will feed 

As comes her own pet, the Yule Cat

Ravaging any and all left 

Those children without new clothing 

Fill the beast's belly- lost, bereft 

As folly sating its loathing 

Red on the doorways; bloody streets 

A bloodbath beneath every tree

Nothing but pieces; tattered sheets

Removed for sad parents to see

Thirteen Lads head home with a grin

As Gryla and her Yule Cat dine

Midnight, and the whispers begin

The blood of the kids becomes wine