Santa rides a Harley
at the same time every year.
He comes in all shapes and forms,
Bearing gifts for children
who are sick or dying,
in hospitals across the land.
He rides with his elves
who are as big and burly as he.
Roaring up the highway
in packs of hundreds or more.
These rough, tough bikies
have a heart of gold
and the interiors of pussycats
who play Santa,
on this special day every year.
For the Children.

TeAnne © Dec.12.1998

Christmas in the outback
is hot dry and barren
with 150°F in the kitchen
and 100° F in the shade.
Santa sits on the veranda
sipping ice cold beer from
his esky, (filled with ice)
He is in his singlet, shorts
and thongs. While his elves
splash in the creek over yonder,
and their counter-parts
are knee deep in snow and
catching the flu or worse.

Santa loves the outback
for he is not required to
to climb down chimneys in red suit
and get stuck and have his beard singed
by smouldering embers from last nights
winter fires in lands
on the other side of the world.

Mrs Clause, feeds him, ham
turkey, chicken and roast pork
with baked potatoes and pumpkin with greens.
Followed by rich plumb puddin'
topped with cream and custard.

Is it no wonder he hates climbing down chimneys?
On Christmas Eve.

TeAnne © Dec. 12. 1998 

How some things change.
Six years ago
We drank beer
and ate Christmas dinner.
We celebrated your birthday too.
Dad, you and I,
we got drunk and had a great time.

Six years on, I don't drink
You and Dad have moved on,
to a higher place.
No Christmas dinner
No birthday to celebrate.
Cancer ate you and
Daddy died of a broken heart.

Cancer now eats my cat
and I am an orphan
who hates Christmas.
Some things never change!

TeAnne © Dec. 12. 1998
 

Dear Santa,

I am writing this year to ask you a few questions!
When I was a little girl, did you ever read my letters?
They were addressed to you at the North Pole. And
were never returned to me as “Return to sender”
I didn’t ask for much. I only wanted what other little
girls were asking for. I was telling the truth, when I said I had
been a good girl all year. Did you not believe me?

Every year, you passed me by.
Not one dream or wish did you ever grant me.
“Why was this, did I live too far out of town?”
Every year my lip lived on the floor on Christmas Day.
But every year Mumma said. “Hang in there love. There is always
next year.” “Never give up on your dreams or wishes or what you believe in”.
 

Now that I am grown, I find it hard to believe,
for I have never had a dream or wish come true.
So, I was wondering if this year, you would just
read my letter and grant me an over due wish?

I have been a good girl all year. You have my word on that.
Let my Mumma's words not have been uttered in vein.
Please give me back my little girl dreams and wishes, for
all I ask is “A Reason To Believe”!

Yours sincerely

TeAnne © Dec 12. 1998