T'was the night before Christmas and all through the nest,
not a wing was a flutter; we birds were at rest.
Our feed cups were hung by the cage doors indeed,
in hopes that Santa would fill them with seed.
We Parrots were perching all snug in our beds,
while visions of pine nuts danced through our heads.
After another long day of taking our flap,
Mom and Dad settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my cage to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
chewed open the shutters and threw up my mash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
looked as bare as my chest (well, what do you know?).
When what to my beady eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little grey driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he wasn't too slick.
Hey Senegals, and Conures, and Yellow Napes, and Toucans,
Macaws, and Eclectus, and all you Moluccans.
To the top of your perches (don't splatter the wall),
now listen, now listen; can you hear our loud call?
As seed shucks that wild parrots make fly,
when they meet with an obstacle;
take that in your eye!
So up to the nest-top those reindeer they flew,
with a sleigh full of toys, and Santa Bird too.
That's when I heard it, (was it The Real Macaw?)
the scratching and digging of each little claw.
As I flew back to my cage and was turning around,
down the chimney Santa Bird crashed - - a terrible sound.
He was dressed all in feathers from his head to his foot,
and his wings were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
Zac Squiggles' safe toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a vulture awaiting a snack.
His eyes, how they twinkled! His strutting, how merry!
his grey wings enormous, his red tail like a cherry!
His sharp little beak was as black as a crow,
and the skin on his chest was as bare as the snow.
The stump of a cracker he held tight in his bill,
and he gobbled the crumbs 'til he'd had his fill.
He had a grey face, and a round naked belly,
that was as ugly and pink, as a ham from the deli.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly grey elf,
and I laughed, when I saw him, cause he looked like myself.
But, he let me know I had nothing to dread,
everything was okay, cause my tail was red.
He spoke lots of words, while he continued his work,
and filled all the treat cups, then called me a jerk.
And laying a wing-tip aside of his beak,
up the chimney he rose like a sneak.
He sprang to his sleigh, to the team gave a whistle,
and away they all flew, like the down off a Quetzal.
But, I heard him shriek, ere he flew out of sight,
"Pine nuts to all, and to all a good-flight!"
Copyright, Old World Aviaries. All rights, both printed and electronic, reserved. You may freely link to this site. You may not reproduce any materials from this site without written permission.