T'was the night before christmas when all through the town,
Not a creature was stirring as they lay on their down.
The wives were all dreaming of turkeys and such,
What they'd bought husbands, why car parts... and how much!

The children were nestled all snug in the rack,
Dreamin of the big guy, his red suit and sack.
They wanted some candy, some toys and some books,
And daddy to stop driving with goggles... what looks!

My toys were tucked away in the garage below,
all polished and covered up for the spring and some show.
I'd tucked away Moggie, the Matchless ol' trike,
And his cousin the G80, a '46 bike.

The others were happy as they too could rest,
While that nasty old Lucas continued to infest.
The hoods were all up, the bonnets all down,
The heaters – What heaters? They're British, you clown!

And I in my skivvies, the wife in her flannel,
fighting over the remote, the popcorn and the channel.
When out on the yard there arose such a rumble,
I threw back the covers, tripped on the cat and did stumble!

I ran to the window and threw open the shutter,
Looked out to see, my heart all a flutter.
The moon all aglow gave a shimmering light,
To this special festive evening, my favorite night.

I looked out to see an old Triumph, the Stag,
A Daimler, a Mini, a Bond... it did lag!
A Jag and an MG were lined side by side.
and there was a Rover and Humber with pride.

I couldn't believe what I saw row by row,
More British iron than anyone could possibly tow!
There were Sunbeams and Daimlers and Austins with spats,
And XK's with ornaments on the bonnet, yes cats!

I looked and I looked for my eyes were so wide,
I couldn't believe this great sight just outside.
I grabbed the old bathrobe I got the last year,
and ran to the front yard letting out a great cheer.

For there at the end of this long line of chrome,
was a man we call Santa in front of my home.
He sat proudly in a Morgan, the model you see
I can't tell you as it was a mystery to me.

Debate if you like whether Plus Four or Trike,
or a Plus Eight or 4/4 if that's what you like.
It matters so little as the best part you see,
was that he too liked British and Lucas, like me!

He winked and he twirled around in the seat,
grabbed some parcels and tossed them to land at my feet.
I knew in an instant what I wished for I got,
For only an exhaust could look like this lot.

Then some also came for my wife, children and pets,
I'll see in the morning what everyone gets.
I turned to thank him but my words were in vain,
as hundreds of Britcars went skyward in strain.

As he flew out of sight, I watched the chrome all a glow,
And heard that expression that most of us know.
I hope you enjoyed this and I got it all right,
"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night"

Bob Wright and family