I jingle and slide through the snow bringing joy to the night, but misstep my homophone, and it’s quite a fright. One lets you ride with Santa, all cozy and bright, The other- well, you definitely don’t want to do that alright?

My first four letters end in five, My last three a friend always by your side. With a pretty strap or handle to hold, It carries stories and secrets yet untold.

Everyone has one, some have two. You can turn me about, at a command. Part of a clock, but not a hand.

Here, have a seat, but don't lean back, or else you'll have a bad fall. If you ever see a bloody one of me, don't hesitate, give the doctor a call.

I’m a trunk if in GMT or a staple in Santa’s uniform.