'Twas the Night before The Crown Road Christmas Fair...

Twas the night before Christmas, Saint Margaret’s aglow,

Noses were frozen, all were hoping for snow

Each shop was dripping with Yuletide d├ęcor

From Cutters to Streets there were presents galore

I’d flown many miles from the North Pole this day

To check on reports which had caused me dismay

I’d come to Saint Margaret’s for one special reason

To see for myself what went on in this season

I hid in a corner of Zorans for a while

Saw Sue and Jay march down the aisle

They shouted an order to ‘turn the big tree on!’

And the Christmas angel in flashing pink neon

Hanging up high from twin gold supports

Was a sign that told what I’d heard in reports

Tonight at nine, Father Christmas himself,

Will switch on the lights with the help of an elf!

But the clock on the wall said ten past nine

And as the nervous shopkeepers stood in line

I watched to see what the minutes would bring

When a voice from the silence said, everyone sing!!!

Then I watched while in Scrunch they teased their creations,

And Crown Cycles yelled ‘man all the stations!’

When out on the street there rose such a roar.

From Brula to Look-In it boomed through each store.

I looked to the windows, heard shouts all too loud

Saw Martin from Herdmans with a hysterical crowd

From Gaia to Taylor’d, the doors opened wide

And a great human avalanche thundered inside

More fearsome than Raheen in a terrible canker

Came two hundred Mums crying ‘that man’s Santa!’

Dangerously waving their Mulberry handbags

As heavy and deadly as twenty pounds sandbags

Flushed with excitement their kids had one aim

To get to the man they thought was using my name

They mauled me and mobbed me and began to plead

For the presents they sought in their hour of need

But then as they approached me and I’ll say for their sake

That they knew in an instant I wasn’t a fake

I watched in fear as they began to advance

When someone screamed, everyone dance!!

I ran towards Armstrongs, called my reindeer to hurry

At Sunshine and Ravioli they were starting to worry

Nigel and Kim threw their hands in the air

The tailors at Birketts waved scissors in despair

It was all too much for my soul to condone

And I let out a most unprofessional moan

From inside Dolly Rock another stampede

From Gaia to The Crown there was trouble indeed

So I stood on the pavement and I was really a sight

With my beard and moustache so curly and white

Am I the real Santa, well what do you think?

And I smiled as I gave them a mysterious wink

And so back to my sleigh, said goodbye to them all

To Dasher and Prancer, as a hush it did fall

And away across ocean, mountain, ravine

As I left them to enjoy their nativity scene.