An excerpt from Christmas.

A reflection on Christmas.- from an Aussie Alice friend who thought her poem might make you smile,- ……enjo


There’s been a drought a 152
It’s not from lack of water though
a,b,c
d and e they once flowed
so easily,
so merrily they made their way
To form a poem, a word display
A picture, story, little song
to illustrate the marching throng (of life!)

It's not from lack of ink or paper.
Just time you see
For Christmas came
Streaming down the freeway
in the latest sporty car
All shiny and bling,
even Jesus had a gold plated crib
A Ralph Lauren Bib
And Mary's got new American Ugg boots.

She was dizzy with the flashing lights
The wilting tree
The Angels plight,
At having to sit on the top branch.

St Nick didn't get a letter but an A4 pad,
How does he do it they wonder?
He doesn't, he passed the buck to me
the cad!
Zooming here, there, every shopping where
The credit cards been working out all year
for this big spender
I wish the credit card police would suspend her,
She’s found online shopping too,
It’s so easy browsing on the sofa
with a nip of Christmas Brandy to help
the net seduce her....

THATS IT, enough she cries
The Christmas mosquito has sucked us dry
We're off to camp somewhere remote
Don't worry kids
Santa’s got the note.

Camping, what was she thinking
(not been for a year or three)
She'd forgotten you have to pack
the loo rolls, beds, pillows, food,
Clothes and boots, trikes and bikes,
Balls and bats, torches, stoves, tables
Chairs, Fishing rods, Canoes and ores

And then her chirpy husband says,
‘Are you packing the kitchen sink as well?'
She feels the fire rise; she feels she might just blow,
(like a Christmas cracker)
But no, she keeps to task in hand,
Picks up the spades for digging sand
and smiles her Christmassy smile
through her pearly whites

8hours later they arrive in paradise,
Paradise is Walkerville Caravan Park,
It’s sunny, windy, windy and cold,
Put up the tent, see it’s got mold
No tent pegs or guide ropes too
'At least the parks got showers and loos'
he says sheepishly.

The cracker is ripe
and when it explodes it’s a dud,
Mrs. Claus turns on her heel,
Grabs the arm of a boy, reindeer food
And marches onto the beach
to capture Christmas Eve magic
less the candles, lights, trees and hymns

And there
in the vast embrace of natures nakedness
the magic captures them.