A Visit from Santy
Claus
By
Harold Anderson
(With apologies to
Clement Moore)
It was the night afore Christmas
And all through the shack
Everybody was crashed out –
From the front to the back.
Everyone’s over-hauls hung from their own nail
No Santy this year –
I’d jist got otta jail.
The young’uns asleep on the floor and the chairs,
Maw and me on the mattress in the bedroom upstairs
She in her flannel nighty, and me in long-Johns,
When thar came a loud ruckus from the muddy front lawn!
I unbolted the front door and peeked through a crack,
And what I saw just took me aback!
The night was cold and clear as a bell
The moon was full, so I could see quite well
The moonlight sparkled on the grass wet with dew
When, from over the pines, a mule-wagon flew!
It was a beautiful conveyance –
John Deere green and red,
The spokes were varnished hickory,
And presents filled the bed.
The fat whiskered driver’s Carharts was red, and galluses, green
His team was eight sleek mules –
Powerful and lean!
He made a bee-line for the barn
And landed with a “plop,”
But the lathing was rotten,
So he caved in the top!
He jumped from the roof
And landed on his feet –
Right in a dung-pile, about a foot deep!
With his tow-sack o’er his shoulder,
He slogged through the mud,
Over to the shack, and thar he stood
All perplexed, looking for the chimley,
But we didn’t have none!
He wouldn’t fit in the stove pipe,
‘Cause it was too small,
So he climbed in the back winder,
And floated down the halls!
I was ‘bout to shoot him for a burglar,
Then I knowed who he was – the Great Santy Claus!
He took a chaw of Red Man
And went straight to his chore:
Thar, on the water-shelf by the front door
He left apples and oranges and
Raisins on the stem,
Peppermint candy, and a box of Slim-Jims!
Everybody got gloves and a pair of warm sox.
He left a sack of dried beans –
And a smoked ham-hock!
He looked in his tow-sack,
But thar warn’t no more,
So he kissed all the chillens,
And sneaked out the front door.
He floated to his wagon, laughed with good cheer,
And said to his mules, “Giddy-up, let’s get outta here!
On Leroy and Willie and Jim-Bob and Claude
On Sally and Tamara and Shemeka and Maude!”
As he drove down the lane with a “Clippity-clop,”
He shouted, “Don’t worry ‘bout the barn –
I’ll send Mrs. Claus to shore up the top!”
