Night Before Christmas in Aussie land

[Guest guest]

 

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

'roos.

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!'