Introduction

It's here again, it's Christmas time, That glorious event, That brings together families And relatives and friends.

Reflections on Yule

"We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year."

It's here again, it's Christmas time,
That glorious event,
That brings together families
And relatives and friends.

A time of cheer, of carols,
And presents on the hearth.
But most of all the memories
That Christmas Day imparts.

And as I sit surrounded
By the children, great and small,
The mind escapes to wander
Through my Christmas memory haul.

To six foot drifts of icy snow
On Hallowed Christmas Day,
The relatives all stranded
Over 60 miles away.

And Mother's still preparing food,
Enough to feed an army.
Dad pours himself another beer
And says he thinks she's barmy.

The little bells that tinkle
Hanging on the Christmas tree
Remind me of the Christmas
That we spent in Sydney.

Mother slaving in the kitchen
With a chicken not long dead.
As the temperature is rising
Dad lies sweating on the bed.

But the grid, it cannot take it
As the mercury explodes,
So it has to shut the power
Or the station will implode.

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And Mum in desperation, screams
"Who turned the power off?"
"Oh God, what next!" said father
As he gets up in a huff.

"Don't fret yourself," said Uncle Frank.
"Just leave it up to me,
I'll fire up the Metters
And we'll have the chook for tea."

"No, put it on the driveway,"
Said Dad between his beers
"And let it simmer slowly
Then we'll have it for New Year's."

And the broken glass it tinkled,
Like the little Christmas bell
As the chook became a missile,
"And you lot can go to hell!"

It's Christmas time, it's here again
It's really for the kids
A very special time of year
Not to be missed for quids.

The shops are filled with gifts and toys.
There's glitter all around.
Parades and reindeer, Santa Claus
And memories abound.

"I hate that fellow Santa Claus,
I hate his garlic breath,
I have to sit upon his lap
His arms around my chest."

"Hate being dandled on his knee
Like a puppet on a string
While the man behind the camera
Looks like a ding-a-ling."

"I'm eight years old, I'm not a child."
Says Jenny's grandson, Giles.
"Don't treat me like an idiot
And forget about the smiles."

"That stupid man don't listen,
To a single word I said,
And the note I wrote last Christmas
Is still there in my bed."
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"He took the train I asked for
To Jamie down the lane,
And left me with a plastic car
And paper aeroplane."

I always hated Christmas
'Cause it always seemed to me
That everyone enjoyed themselves
Everyone, but me.

Oh Tannenbaum, Oh Christmas tree
Pray tell me your lament
As you stand there somewhat naked
In your bucket of cement.

You're leaning on an angle,
Like a ship that's going down,
With your arms held up for mercy
Before you finally drown.

But what of Yuletide blessings,
And the yule log on the rug,
As reflection on the Yuletime
Give my lonely heart a tug.

"You'll do this and you'll do that
And you'll not answer back
You'll not kick your cousin Rachel
Or I'll promise you a wack.

You'll say thank you for your presents
You'll be nice to Uncle Matt."
I think someone should take Yuletide
And feed it to the cat!

Hey Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Merry ?? - That's not what I would say.
I'd say they're all as drunk as skunks
Or heading on that way.

And forget the Christmas carols,
Cousin Carol's full of song
And she'll pass out on the sofa
Before too very long.

And Mother's trying very hard
To dignify the scene
Announcing that we all sit down
For the message from the Queen.
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But finally the memories
Of happenings, so clear
We are painfully reminded of
Each and every year.

The Day when tragedy can strike
And accidents occur
And people die despite
The Christmas candle burning there.

That fateful day the 25th
When Tracy did her all
And flattened Darwin in one blow.
The media had a ball!

I know for me, the memories
Of Christmas linger on,
As I hear my warbled hummings
Of that famous Christmas song.

But Hark - not Herald Angels,
That's young Jason, I can hear,
And the piercing sound of screaming
Drifting loud upon the air.

And his mother's faintly sobbing,
Says the trampoline was torn
And the siren bells are wailing
On that joyful Christmas morn.

So to all of you at Christmas
I wish you Yuletide cheer
As I read my Mr. Dickens
There's one true voice I hear

That dear old man, that Mr. Scrooge
Astute - no not a mug
He, only he, had got it right
Christmas is Humbug

Merry Christmas!

17 November 2000

Copyright; Margaret Muir