Christmas under the Southern Cross

I came across this poem which reflects for those of us in the southern hemisphere what our " white christmas" is really like!


CHRISTMAS UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS
I am tired of snowmen and sleighs while we swelter in summer heat.
I am tired of talk of Jack Frost while we struggle with swollen feet.
No glistening snow in our lane and no snowman called "Parson Brown".
It is sun block and sunhats and "Do we really have to go to town?"
Our meadow is a thirsty paddock and a farmer reaping grain,
The ever-present fear of bushfire and a land that cries out for rain.

No Yule log and no mistletoe,No frosty morning air,
Just endless days of summer,And children without a care.
It's splashing in a swimming pool,And walking on the beach.
It's lovely summer meals and fruits,Cherries, apricots and peach.

It is insect repellent,and Carols in the Park,
Children in pyjamas,waiting for the dark.
It is seafood and salads,Icy cold drinks and ice cream,
It is holiday time and friendship,Such joy these things mean.
It is travelling many outback miles at night to avoid the heat.
It is the joy of catching up,and the friends that we meet.

It is the friendly handshake underneath a sky of blue.
It is the "welcome to my home"
It is the "I have missed you"
Christmas under the Southern Cross in a vast and "Wide Brown Land "is really not very different when we feel the touch of friendship's hand.

So as we celebrate again this year and we delight in the Christmas season.
Let's remember it matters not where we are,
What matters is the reason.!