Twas the night before Brixtmas, and all through the house
Each student was sleeping, as hushed as a mouse.
A six-person silence as they slept in their beds
Visions of yule logs and booze in their heads.
Bins were upturned by a fox in the street,
Scavenging out some Christmassy treat.
Buses and sirens whined on the Hill
But still they slept on, drunk on goodwill.
Lorries and trains speeding through town,
Planes going up and planes coming down:
Each noise is a story that London tells,
But out of that mix, came the sound of bells.
Bells in the darkness, almost silent at first,
Then bells in a ‘flying-through-sky’ kind of burst.
As housemates slept and dreamt that it snowed,
A reindeer-pulled sleigh parked on Helix Road.
Out of the sleigh climbed two sooty old boots
And a jolly old man of Jamaican roots.
“Ho ho!” he chuckled as he patted his deer
And crept up to their door, “Father Brixtmas is here!”
With the magic of Brixtmas at the touch of his hand,
He passed through the door like it was nothing but sand.
“They must be asleep,” he said to the night,
And then searched the house to check he was right.
On tiptoe he poked his head round each door,
He saw Max asleep and heard Libby snore,
He checked in on Emma, he snuck in Emily’s room,
And saw her tucked up in the warmth and the gloom.
He looked in on Josh, quiet and dreaming,
He saw Isaac asleep and then started beaming.
Father Brixtmas was happy, the scene had been set,
To give them a Brixtmas they’d never forget.
“I won’t give you toys,” he said to the sleepers,
“I won’t give you clothes, or black brothel creepers.
You don’t need my gadgets or gizmos or books,
You’ve already got friends and dashing good looks.”
“You all live in Brixton, the best place to live
There really aren’t many gifts I can give.”
He didn’t bring presents in his bell-adorned sleigh,
But something much better for their Brixtmas Day.
He snuck to their kitchen and cleaned all the dishes,
He unworried their worries and granted their wishes.
He filled every room up with festive cheer
And gave them enough smiles to last them all year.
When he was finished he sighed with a smile,
“My work here is done, now I’m off for a while.”
He shut their door with the sound of a feather
And stepped into the night and the wintery weather.
The street was still empty, save for the fox,
Eating mince pies in a thrown away box.
Nose covered in sugar, she looked to the sky
In wonder as she saw 12 deer flying by.
Father Brixtmas was steering as the deer pulled strong
With a clatter and jingle of bells he was gone
But she heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight
‘Happy Brixtmas to all, and to all a good-night!”