‘Twas the week before Christmas and all ’round the yard,
there was much to be done, it looked all too hard!
While there’s ham in the fridge and seafood on order,
there was still the small issue of no grass, mulch or borders.
The children are playing in the pool with much glee,
while I looked at my chores list with concern and dismay.
I jumped on the blower and made a few calls,
Found a supplier that could help deck the halls.
When out on the road there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter,
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the blind, and threw up the sash.
The sun on the breast of bare barren dirt,
gave the yard a lustre of brown and the need of a shirt,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a green and gold truck and a man at the steer.
With a little old driver, so full of energy,
I knew at that moment it must be Centenary!
More rapid than eagles, the rumbling truck nears,
and he whistled and sung while unloading my gear!
A wink of his eye and tip of his hat,
soon gave me to know he was a great chap,
Where do you want it, where shall it be?
I said just place it under the whopping great tree.
Back at dispatch the controller called out,
It’s time to return home he said with such clout,
He spoke not a word and unpacked the tray,
It was full of great gear, it resembled a sleigh.
Working so swiftly he was done in no time,
And off he continued at a quarter past nine,
He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,
And away he drove like the down of a thistle.