Night
Before Christmas in Aussie land
'Twas
the night before Christmas; there wasn't a sound.
Not a
possum was stirring; no-one was around.
We'd left on the table some tucker and beer,
Hoping
that Santa Claus soon would be here;
We children were snuggled up safe in our beds,
While
dreams of pavlova danced 'round in our heads;
And Mum in her nightie, and Dad in his shorts,
Had just
settled down to watch TV sports.
When outside the house a mad ruckus arose;
Loud
squeaking and banging woke us from our doze.
We ran
to the screen door, peeked cautiously out,
Snuck
onto the deck, then let out a shout.
Guess what had woken us up from our snooze,
But a
rusty old Ute pulled by eight mighty kangaroos.
The
cheerful man driving was giggling with glee,
And we
both knew at once who this plump bloke must be.
Now, I'm telling the truth it's all dinki-di,
Those
eight kangaroos fairly soared through the sky.
Santa leaned out the window to pull at the reins,
And
encouraged the 'roos, by calling their names.
'Now, Kylie! Now, Kirsty! Now, Shazza and Shane!
On
Kipper! On, Skipper! On, Bazza and Wayne!
Park up
on that water tank. Grab a quick drink,
I'll
scoot down the gum tree. Be back in a wink!'
So up to the tank those eight kangaroos flew,
With the
Ute full of toys, and Santa Claus too.
He slid
down the gum tree and jumped to the ground,
Then in
through the window he sprang with a bound.
He had bright sunburned cheeks and a milky white
beard.
A jolly
old joker was how he appeared.
He wore
red stubby shorts and old thongs on his feet,
And a
hat of deep crimson as shade from the heat.
His eyes - bright as opals - Oh! How they twinkled!
And,
like a goanna, his skin was quite wrinkled!
His
shirt was stretched over a round bulging belly
Which
shook when he moved, like a plate full of jelly.
A fat stack of prezzies he flung from his back,
And he
looked like a swaggie unfastening his pack.
He spoke
not a word, but bent down on one knee,
To
position our goodies beneath the yule tree.
Surfboard and footy-ball shapes for us two.
And for
Dad, tongs to use on the new barbeque.
A
mysterious package he left for our Mum,
Then he
turned and he winked and he held up his thumb;
He strolled out on deck and his 'roos came on cue;
Flung
his sack in the back and prepared to shoot through.
He
bellowed out loud as they swooped past the gates-
MERRY CHRISTMAS to
all, and goodonya, MATES!
Poetry
Corner
