CHRISTMAS CARD & POEM

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Here in Australia we send Christmas cards and email messages featuring snowmen, village snow scenes and candles in front of frosted windows, notwithstanding that it is the hottest time of the year for us. We sing songs about Rudolf, chestnuts over fires, jingling bells and Frosty, when the greater reality is we have barbeques, turkey dinners, watch the Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race on Boxing Day and watch cricket.

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Our family Christmas card this year, courtesy of our daughter Acacia, is on an Australian theme (I take credit for the original idea). It features a Christmas tree made from the leaves and flower of an Australian native flowering gum (eucalyptus) tree, with other Oz natives – wattle, bottle brush, banksia, gumnuts – making up the borders. 

A pic of a flowering gum:

Our Christmas card:

A very Merry Christmas to all Byters, readers. 

their families and those near and dear to them.

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As a further balance to the northern hemisphere snowy Christmases, the following poem is much more accurate for us here . . .

An Australian Christmas Poem

      Author unknown

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!'

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