12/05/2024
Tis the season for the annual posting of "T'was Christmas In Florida" that I penned back in 2009.
T'was Christmas In Florida
T'was the day before Christmas and all through the house, no one but us old folks, just me and my spouse. The children up north had clans of their own, so we visited on Facebook and speed dial cell phones.
The stockings were hung 'neath the flat screen TV, in hopes that St Nicholas would bring us HD. Grandma in her two piece and I in my cap had come in from the beach for our pre-supper nap.
When out in the channel there arose such a clatter, I got up from the hammock to see what was the matter. The moon left a path of cool light on the bay as bright tacky Christmas lights blazed cross the way.
When what did my wondering eyes finally see but a little white sloop drawn by eight manatee. With a little old captain so ancient and thick, I thought to myself, 'Whoa, this can't be Saint Nick!'
His eyes, how they twinkled, his visage so merry, the thought crossed my mind he'd been into the sherry. So down to the boat dock I ran in a flash with an armful of fenders to soften the crash.
Far quicker than jet skis, his manatee came and he whistled and shouted and called them by name. "Now Andy, now Barney, now Aunt Bee and Gomer, on Opie, on Otis, on Milly and Goober! To the end of the pier, up on the sea wall, now thrash away, thrash away, thrash away all!"
As dry palm fronds before the wild hurricanes fly when they skid down the streets and spin up to the sky, right up the launch ramp his team they all flew with a boat full of toys and St Nicholas too!
And the next thing we knew they were up on the roof, one Santa, eight mammals and a little white sloop. We couldn't believe it but when we turned around, down from the top deck he came with a bound.
He was pudgy and tanned in a t-shirt and shorts, and he laughed like a porpoise with high squeaks and snorts. A net full of toys swung in right behind him and he spread them all out so the children could find them.
He got everything ship shape then turned with a start, and then bending over he let out . . . la, la, la la . . . (rhymes with "a start"). And that's when we knew he was getting quite old, this Christmas time pirate just wasn't that bold.
But he knew what his job was, this was no time to quit. He’d never retire, this senior St Nick. He’d be making the same voyage the same time next year, and the year after that, never fear, every year.
Then wetting his finger and checking the wind, before anyone knew it he'd set sail again. Then we heard cross the water, his boat out of sight, "Merry Christmas from Florida, Merry Christmas, good night."
Ed Kilbourne ©2009
