Monday, December 22, 2008

Merry Christmas

'Twas a South Padre Christmas and all down the beach,
White sand stretched as far as it could reach.
The flippers were hung on the balcony with care,
In the hopes that Santa soon would drift there.

The Texans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Key Lime pie danced in their heads.
Bahama mama in her grass skirt and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long tropical nap.

When out in the night there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my hammock to see what was the matter.
Away to the screen door I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains and let out a gasp.

The moon on the water, how it did glow,
Giving a luster of midday to palm trees below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature yacht out past the pier.

With a little old captain so lively and quick,
I thought for a moment, "Could it be St. Nick?"
More rapid than the waves, the dolphins they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.

"Now Flipper, now Moby, now Sebastian and Willy,
On Flounder, on Orca, on Jaws and Charlie -
From the end of the pier to our port of call,
Now swim away, swim away, swim away all!"

And then in a twinkling I heard on the beach,
The chirping and chattering and splashing of each.
As I redrew the curtains and was turning around,
Through the front door St. Nicholas came with a bound.

Dressed in his trunks with a beer in his hand,
His feet were all covered with snow-like white sand.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a tourist just opening his pack.

His eyes - how they twinkle, his dimples how merry,
His cheeks were sunburned, his nose like a cherry.
His droll little mouth cracked a big smile,
The goatee on his chin, showed he could be kinda wild.

The snorkel he held tight in his teeth,
The mask it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a red face and a sunburned belly,
That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

Trunks and a cold “Gold”, a strange old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A flash of the peace sign and a nod of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the flippers, then turned with a jerk.
Now laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, out the door he goes.

He sprang to his yacht to his team gave a call,
And away they swam past the lighthouse and all.
But I heard him exclaim as he traveled out of sight,
"Christmas in South Padre, now that's doin' it right!"

-adapted from "Christmas in Abaco" by Nick Campbell and Debbie Midwood circa 2004

3 comments:

Everett said...

OUTSTANDING Sam! Ireally enjoyed that.As I was reading I'm asking myself, How can an old hippie come up with something so good? Well no matter who wrote it, it was really good . Merry Christmas to you and Lori and hope you have a great day and year!

Sam said...

Why thanks Everett and my best to you and your wonderful family.

Ya know, the "nautical Santa" is a tradition that goes way back in history. Down East, Santa arrives by mail boat, sailboat, lobster boat, or ferry. Similar stories are found in the Bahamas and the Hawaiian islands.

Anonymous said...

"Bahama mama in her grass skirt" = priceless