Santa's beard

Santa's Beard
By Marja Blom

One morning after a deep sleep

Santa Claus heard peep, peep, peep

Oh my, he said now that is weird

I think I've got a nest in my beard

Mrs Claus please take the bird away

He said to her with great dismay

Mrs Claus tried and she was curious

Why the bird became so furious

Then next to the bird in the beard

8 wiggly, wobbly eyes appeared

4 lovely tiny chicks came out

and started squealing very loud

Oh Santa dear I know what's best

These chicks will have to keep their nest

but you can't go out like that you know

That beard of yours will have to go

Hence Santa went to cut of his beard

But Santa without a beard looks weird

He bought a fake one and what's more

Santa did look better than before

Now kids if you give Santa's beard a pull

and discover that it's made of wool

You know now why, believe my words

It's because he had to save the birds

A kiwi night before Christmas

Guest Poem

The New Zealand version of "The night before Christmas" by Yvonne Morrison

A Kiwi Night Before Christmas

It was the night before Christmas, and all round the bach

Not a possum was stirring; not one we could catch.

We 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 heads;

And mum in her nightie, and dad in his shorts,

Had just settled down to watch TV sports.

When outside the bach such a ho-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 around 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.

I knew at once who this joker might be.

He patted his dog, and in a voice not unkind,

Cried "Good on ya, boy! Now, get 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 on the roof those sheep quickly flew,

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

As my sister awoke and I turn around,

In through the window he came with a bound.

He wore a black singlet and little white shorts,

And stuck on his feet were gumboots of course;

A sack full of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a postie just opening his pack.

His eyes right 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 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."