A Blue Christmas

The sky was an Aussie midnight blue
And so was the language which freely flew
And we learned words never heard before
When Santa stubbed his toe at our front door.

All was quiet in our part of the town
And we kids had finally settled down
The sacks we chose were big enough
When Santa came with toys and stuff.

The sounds in the street had all gone quiet
There was an air of expectancy in the night.
The doors were open to catch the breeze
And lights still twinkled in Christmas trees.

All this week we'd been so good
We knew exactly where we stood.
Whether Santa checked once or twice
We weren't naughty. We were nice.

We'd left out carrots and biscuits and Fanta
To refresh the reindeer and poor tired Santa.
He always came with never a sound
Leaving hoof-prints on the ground.

But last night we heard this terrible roar,
A great commotion at the front door
It didn't sound like words for Santa to choose,
 Language we weren't allowed to use.

We scurried out and peeked around the door
We were horrified by what we saw
Santa has hopping and stomping around
Toys were scattered on the ground.

Mum said, 'Santa, please, tone it down
You'll wake everyone in the town
And families don't expect from you
Language that I describe as blue.'

We soon got hustled back to bed
'It's a stressful time for Santa,' Mum said
'He'll have to hobble back to the sleigh
And, bad words and all, be on his way.'

But there must be a problem with our front door
Because next day Dad's foot was also sore
Would you believe Dad stubbed his toe
Exactly as Santa had. Ho, ho, ho!