A Kiwi Night Before Christmas

A Kiwi’s Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all round the bach *

Not a possum was stirring; not one could we catch

We’d left on the table a meat pie and beer,

In hopes that Santa Claus soon would be here
We children were snuggled up in our bunk beds,

While dreams of pavlova danced in our head;

And Mum in her nightie, and Dad in his shorts,

Had just settled down to watch TV sports,
When outside the bach such a hoo-ha arose,

I woke up at once from my wonderful doze.

I ran straight to the sliding door, looking about,

Jumped out on the deck, and let out a shout!
The fairy lights Dad had strung up round the door

Let me see everything, down to the shore.

And what did I see, when I took a peep?

But a miniature tractor and eight tiny sheep,
With a little old driver, his dog on his knee (of course in the book this is a border collie).

I knew at once who this joker might be.

He patted the dog, and in a voice not unkind,cried,

“Good on ya, boy! Now, GIT IN BEHIND!”
“Now, Flossy!, now, Fluffy!, now Shaun and Shane!

On, Bossy! on, Buffy! on, Jason and Wayne!

Up that red tree, to the top of the bach!

But mind you don’t trample the vegetable patch.”
So up to the roof those sheep quickly flew,

With the tractor of toys, Santa and his dog too.

As my sister awoke and I turned around,

In through the window he came with a bound.
He wore a black singlet and little white shorts,

And stuck on hist feet were gumboots, of course;

A sackful of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a postie just opening his pack.
His eyes - bright as paua shell - oh, how they twinkled!

Like an old tuatara, his skin was all wrinkled!

He had a wide face and a round, fat tummy,

That looked like he’d eaten lots that was yummy.
He spoke not a word, but got down on one knee,

And placed a cricket set under the tree,

A present for Sis, one for Dad, one for Mum,

Then he turned and he winked and he held up his thumb;
He jumped on his tractor, to his dog gave a whistle,

And away they all flew, as fast as a missile.

I called out “Thanks,” as he flew past the gate.

He called back:

“Kia ora to all, and good on ya, mate!”

*(this is pronounced like ‘batch’ and is beach house)