A Little Christmas Poem
On the first day of Christmas
My parents said to me
Behold we will be Tribers
Creme de la creme la missionary
On the second day of Chrismas
We told our kith and kin
All were sorely amazed
And said we needed our heads looking in
On the third day of Christmas
We arrived at training camp
They put us in a stable
Which was cold, dark and damp
On the fourth day of Christmas
I began to doubt the call of the Lord
But I sort of smiled feebly
For I wished not to be smote by holy sword
On the fifth day of Christmas
We packed our bags for foreign parts
Girded up our loins
To save the Brown Gold hearts
On the sixth day of Christmas
I swore we'd arrived in hell
Not only was it really hot
It had an awful smell
On the seventh day of Christmas
I started mission boarding school
It was a culture shock
For boarding school was not cool
On the eighth day of Christmas
Things happened that were really weird
But they said I must keep quiet
For the black souls could be seared
On the ninth day of Christmas
I came back to civilian life
But I found it a trifle hard
To move on from mission strife
On the tenth day of Christmas
I wrote to the mission to complain
But they said they were now absolved
For they did change their name
On the eleventh day of Christmas
My family said I must forget
Forgive what they said happened not
And be grateful for all I'd met
Now it's the twelth day of Christmas
And my true love said to me
"My, my you've had real adventures
And now you is flying free"
So Merry Christmas friends and friends
Let the frivolity and poetry flow loose
And raise a glass to good health and happiness
But make mine an orange juice