The Hunter's bush poet laureate, Bob "Minmi Magster" Skelton, has kindly written us a Christmas poem.
Here it is:
It's now summer in the Hunter
Though it's been more like winter time
The very best thing Santa could bring
Would be some warm sunshine.
Our beaches are looking dismal
There's been no girls in bathing trunks
Instead they're dressed in winter wear
Tryin' to cover up their big goosebumps.
I'm sick of wearin' wet weather gear
The old farms a quagmire so to speak
And I'm over tippin' the rain gauge out
And wearin' smelly gumboots on me feet.
I've thrown an extra blanket on
To keep ourselves warm in the mornin'
And I've had to light the fire again
So much for global warmin' .
I'm thinkin' of movin' to Darwin
To soak up their summer heat
For if I stay here in the Hunter
I'll end up with goosebumps and webbed feet.
Now a Merry Christmas & Happy New Year
Have a safe and a joyous time
I hope your days be long and happy
Filled with joy and some warm sunshine.
The Night Before Christmas
And one from us at Topics:
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even our spouse!
The stockings were hung on the TV cabinet with care, we hope they're not filled with socks or underwear.
The children were finally snug in their beds, after too much screen time put sugar plums in their heads
With mamma in her jarmies and us in the buff, soon Christmas will be here and with it more stuff.
Out on the street there arose such a clatter, drunken youngsters were lively with chatter
We asked if they'd mind quieting down, they gave us the bird and called us a clown
As they moved on, what should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With a little old driver, so lively and quick, we knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
We can't remember the reindeer's names as our memory is crap, so we'll use Aussie classics to fill in the gaps
He whistled and shouted, and called them by name: Now Kevin! Now Steve! Now Dazza and Wayne; on Dave, on Barry, on Ian and Shane!
To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall; dash away, dash away, dash away all!
And then in a twinkling, we heard on the roof, the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
We didn't have a chimney, so St Nick sat in his sled; he decided real quick to leave the pressies in the shed
He had to move the mower to make room for the gifts, for a man his age and size, he was quite nimble and swift
His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry, his cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry
He pulled out his pipe and stopped for a smoke, then reached in his Esky and drank a bottle of Coke.
No wonder he has such a big round belly, too much Coke turned him into a bowlful of jelly
A wink of his eye and a nod of his head let us know he was impressed with our shed.
He sprang to his sleigh, it was now time to go, it tore through the sky like a UFO
We heard him exclaim while still in sight, Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night!
WHAT DO YOU THINK? We've made it a whole lot easier for you to have your say. Our new comment platform requires only one log-in to access articles and to join the discussion on the Newcastle Herald website. Find out how to register so you can enjoy civil, friendly and engaging discussions. Sign up for a subscription here.
