'Twas the month before Christmas
And all throught the isle
Was nary a creature
Not sporting a smile.
The palm leaves were hung
With white lights galore
Giantplastic Santa guarded
The front of Senny's store.
As planeload on planeload
Of visitors arrived
--I'd ne'er seen the island
Quite so alive.
Then one magical, mystical tropical night,
I lay under my net
Watching mosquitos fight
When into my ears
There arrived such a sound
That I open'd my eyes,
Took a good look around.
At first, 'twas a hum
Like the buzzing of bees,
Maybe o'erzealous wind
In the coconut trees
But the buzz was increasing,
The wind had a beat,
I listen'd, discerned
THE SHUFFLING OF FEET!
Curiosity peaked, outside I crept
What ritual was happ'ning
Out there as I slept?
I followed that sound,
With all of my might,
Saw the church up ahead
All a-blaze with light.
Here was the birthplace, the source
Of the sound
Sung by all my neighbors
As they walked around!
I stood at the window
And watched them with glee--
They spelled "MXM,"
And then "H," and then "P"!
The flock ne'er tired in pursuit
Of their stars;
O'er the course of the night,
They travelled quite far.
Spellbound I stood,
I know not how long;
Bewitched by the stars,
Marching feet, and the song.
The crowd made a turn,
Crossed over the floor--
Oh! It looked like--
They were headed straight for the door!
I panicked, I freaked, tried utmost to hide...
But too late, alas,
They were already outside.
When what should I feel
Hitting me on the nose,
But a butterscotch sucker
And pack of Rolos?
The shower continued--
I took off my hat
In time to catch mints,
Gumdrops, and a Kit-Kat.
I understood not,
But that was okay--
It was the best Christmas ever
That day!
And, as I staggered off under
The weight of my haul,
I turned back around toward the crowd,
I recall.
And I shouted with joy,
Ere I journeyed on back:
"Merry Christmas to all,
nofon mwet Tafunsak!"
M. McCrea
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