Cruising around

in the pre-Christmas sky

St. Nick and his reindeer always fly

Over the waters of Vineyard Sound,

Over the ocean where the waves pound,

Over the bluffs and the cliffs and the sand

Of Martha’s Vineyard, seeking to land

Editor's Note: Each year, editor Phyllis Meras creates a Christmas poem for the Vineyard.

West Tisbury’s Mill Pond was all white;
The snow on the cattails a pretty sight.
The mallards were swimming up and down.
A wood duck, too, was visiting town,
And hooded mergansers were having their day
While in their incredibly stately way
Babette and Romeo — that elegant pair
Of swans that assuredly add such flair
To Mill Pond waters were cruising about
Enjoying a breakfast, without a doubt,
Of cornbread supplied by Jenkinson, Joan,
Who looks after the swans all on her own
Because they make such a picturesque sight

At the Animal Shelter of MV
The dogs were barking with great glee,
And the cats were purring to beat the band,
For they sensed, in the air, that something grand
Was about to happen — to bring delight
To all Martha’s Vineyard, which is right.
In the sky above, they sniffed reindeer
Getting ready to land and to bring good cheer
Not only to shelter dogs and cats
And gerbils and guinea pigs and pet rats
In need of homes and loving care,
But Island humans would get their share
Of gifts from the sleigh in the air on high

In Tisbury town on Church street,
the traffic all was stuck
So those who’d gone on shopping sprees
were clearly out of luck.
They grumped and groaned and left their cars,
And some among them longed for bars
Though they could find right many a snack,
To soothe frayed tempers, but — alack —
There was no wine or beer for sale,
Only soft drinks like ginger ale.
Since by one vote the town decreed
It did not want — it did not need
Drinks alcoholic in the town
That for sobriety is renowned.

M enemsha was all hunkered down

’Twas quiet like all Chilmark town

In winter when it’s cold — and snow

Is falling as all folk do know

And Dutcher Dock is still — except

For Scott McDowell who’s so deft

At making copper fish to sell

For he must pound and tap as well

To make his fish come out just right.

His cod and sole are quite a sight.

Few boats are tied up at the dock

And so it came as quite a shock

To Santa Claus to see bright lights