Twas the night before Christmas, in Porthdinllaen Bay,

Ol’ Santa had been busy, packing gifts, through the day

Many gifts he had wrapped, in nice pretty paper

To disperse and deliver, just that little bit later

We all knew that Santa was well on his way,

But in an Orkney long liner, instead of a sleigh..!

And so he arrived, being as quiet as can be

This Santa that came, from out there on the sea

He whizzed over wave tops, and landed his boat, just there on the beach, to deliver his load,

the winterised moon, gave the bay a cool glow,

And lighted the way for old Santa below.

As he jumped from his craft, he gave a wee chuckle,

He was dressed in red oilskins, a belt and big buckle,

There weren't many chimneys, that he needed to climb

It was one in the morning, as a clock he heard chime.....

He stopped at each house....and stayed just a minute,

Emptying that goody bag, of the stuff that was in it,

And before he departed, he treated himself,

To a twelve year old whiskey, he found on the shelf.

He turned with a jerk and ran down the beach,

With one place to go, only one house to reach

He had to go now; as no time was to loose,

as it was a mad dash, not a restful old cruise

The engine in forward, he twisted the throttle,

putting back in his pocket, the ol’ whiskey bottle

so across the cool sea, he went like a flash.

He had no more time, he just had to dash

He made it, he got there, and shimmed up the slate

beside dear ol’ Blodwen, his lover, his mate

and therefore you have it, this tale full of joy.

That Santa was Bleddyn, he’s one good ol’ boy. !!!!!!!!!

® Anon 2006