In Honor of All Southern Christmases

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house

The A/C was running, ‘cause we live in the south

The boots were lined up, inside the door

Covered from the weather, waiting for the score

 

The chil’ens had all been sent to their sacks

While Mama and me were knocking one back

Mama in her crop top, and me in my shorts

Gave us just enough time for some adult sports

 

When out on the lawn there was grunting and growling

I grabbed my gun, flew out the door, to do a little hunting

When I got the damndest surprise of my life

A little round man, dressed in red with a pipe

 

The moon was a bright one, no good for hunting

The red man didn’t care, he moved through it like lightning

He found the boots on the porch and filled them with tackle,

Wigglers, and lures, ammo and tobacco

 

We stopped for a minute, scratched our heads with a thought

How’d that red man get in here without being caught?

There’s gators, and bears, and snakes everywhere

And yet here was the red man with nary a care

 

He was dressed rather strangely, who wears fur in the South?

Fur hat on his head, when it’s hot as hell out?

He gave not a care, when we tried to warn him

About Doofus our dog, and barks are a warning

 

He liked treeing critters, and children and men

Sent them up the tree, then back down again

Ole Doofus can climb a tree like a cat

When you’re run off by him, you don’t never come back

 

That old red man kept at his work, hanging lights, bells, and stars

Why he even decorated the tractors and cars

He smiled all the while, a jolly old cuss

We watched in amazement, with no reason to fuss

 

When he finished his work, he turned real quick

Pulled out his phone to snap a few pics

He winked over at us, and gave a nod very slow

Then finished things up, by adding some bows

 

 

We watched and we wondered, how he’d ever get out

Of the swamp that we lived in, but moreover the South

Fear not Santa lovers, for sooner than later

A boat glided in, pulled by six alligators

 

He grabbed up his bag, and threw it aboard

Then called them by names, and upward they roared

Now Cletus, and Buford, and Sammy, and Joe

Follow Tyler, and Redd, they know which way to go

 

Up to the sky, more children to see

As long as it’s dark, it’s still Christmas Eve

We last saw him waving, as he disappeared from our sight

Merry Christmas to y’all, y’all have a good night.

 

©Wanda M. Argersinger

2016 All Rights Reserved