Christmas Eve
Night Before
Christmas in Aussie land
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!'
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