Twas the week before Christmas

The Strange Lad discovers the true meaning of Christmas in a community that welcomes all.

‘Twas the week before Christmas, all through the Bude,
Where festive minced spirits were clearly the mood.
The wind and the rain carried more than just spray,
They sang of the promise of a sweet holiday.

At the Bude Social Club, the festive vibe was bright,
Where every blow in received a friendly spotlight.
With true bluegrass tunes and a bingo-style jingle,
The Clotted Cream Trio made the whole TJ tingle.

A new open mic debuted with a folking sound,
With Ben at the Howl, spreading cheer all around.
Then alt-rock from The Ex-Presidents, with a shiver and a shake,
A performance to make the whole Preston Gate quake!

An Irish night started with Harry and his friends,
Where the barrels weren’t dry and the stout never ends.
Then handsome Lil Jim, a one-man delight,
Won us all over twice at the gig on that night.

The Howlin’ rhythm & blues from Crooklets Cafe,
Made even the shyest legs get up and play.
And on Sunday, with James Dixon singing so near,
Pulled Santa from his sleigh just to lend him an ear.

On Monday, the Barrel Tappers led the carols bright,
With fiddles and elfy riddles to delight us that night.
Then Tuesday, the choir at Crooklets sang with all their heart,
A concert featuring the strange lad in a low covert.

Then Wednesday brought funk, with soul and reggae,
From Ross Kelly, a front man who made the room sway.
Then Christmas Day dawned for the debut cold dip,
With a steaming mug of Rosie’s hot chocolate to sip.

So thank you to Bude for the warmth of your hands,
For welcoming a stranger to these joyful lands.
You showed me the meaning, singing loud and clear,
Of peace and goodwill for the coming New Year.