Christmas In Gungawamp

We don’t have no great doin’s here where Christmas time comes round,

     We ain’t got stacks of cash to spend, our town ain’t high renowned;

But we jest have a quiet time an’ cellerbrate the day,

     Of Christmas here in Gungawamp the good ol’ fashioned way.

The boys an’ girls they all come home, frum near an’ frum afar,

     Where they hev gone to try to hitch their wagons to a star;

They all come home at Christmastime, with bundles an’ good cheer,

     An’ make the holidays fur us the time uv all the year.

An’ frum the fireplace runnin’ crost the broad ol’ kitchen wall

     We hang a row the night before of stockin’s large an’ small,

There’s one fur pa an’ one fur ma, an’ all the children, too,

     ‘Cuz we all b’lieve in Santa Claus jest like we uster do.

An’ late at night there’s peekin’ through the cracks uv all the doors,

     An’ all the registers thet heat the upper chamber floors

To see what folks are doin’ when they tiptoe here an’ there,

     An’ sometimes we rush out an’ try to ketch them unaware.

The fun on Christmas morning is a pleasure to recall,

     Half dressed before the open fire with stockin’s full fur all!

The service in the village church, an’ then the dinner time,

     The joys of which cannot be told in story, song or rhyme.

The Christmas tree at eventide, the children, wild with glee,

     The music uv the Christmas hymns, the organ’s mellerdy.

O, Christmas is a wondrous thing in cities great an’ small,

     But Christmastime in Gungawamp we reckon beats ‘em all.

Dec. 3, ‘05