‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town,
no noses were frozen, no snow fluttered down,
no children in flannels were tucked into bed,
they all wore shorty pajamas instead.
To find wreaths of holly, ’twas not very hard,
for holly trees grew in every back yard.
In front of the houses, Dads and Moms were
adorning the bushes and coconut palms.
The sleeping kiddies were dreaming in glee,
hoping to find water skis under the tree.
They all knew that Santa was well on his way,
in a Mercedes-Benz, instead of a sleigh.
And soon he arrived and started to work,
he hadn’t a second to linger or shirk.
He whizzed up the highways and zoomed up the road,
in a S-L 300, delivering his loads.
The tropical moon gave the city a glow,
and lighted the way for old Santa below.
As he jumped from the auto he gave a wee chuckle,
he was dressed in Bermudas with an Ivy league buckle.
There weren’t any chimneys, but that caused no gloom,
for Santa came in through the Florida room.
He stopped at each house… stayed only a minute,
emptying his sack of stuff that was in it.
Before he departed, he treated himself
to a glass of papaya juice upon the shelf.
He turned with a jerk and bounced to the car,
remembering he still had to go very far.
He shifted the gears and stepped on the gas
and up Highway 436 he went like a flash.
And I heard him exclaim as he went on his way,
“MERRY CHRISTMAS Y’ALL, I WISH I COULD STAY!”