The Night Before Census

It was this time of year, the night before 

the governor’s census. It had been one hell of a day,

the inn was completely full. We were getting into bed 

when I heard a lamb bleating outside our window. 

I wondered what the matter was. 

So, I put my trousers back on.

‘Don’t be too long,’ Sarah said with a nod of her head,

‘I’ll be waiting for you in this big, warm bed.’

It had been an eventful evening. 

About nine o’clock, I was just about to close reception 

when this young couple came in 

looking for somewhere to stay – 

they’d been travelling all day

and now everywhere was full.

The poor woman was expecting,

hands pressed against her back

as if to ease the torment.

I remember hoping her waters wouldn’t break, 

the reception carpet had only been down a week.

Feeling sorry for the couple, I explained

that we were part way through 

converting the stable block into holiday chalets. 

We didn’t have electricity in those days,

but we had logs for fire, candles for light 

and they were most welcome to stay for the night.

It must have been after twelve when I heard 

the lamb bleating. 

Crossing the yard that night

it could have been broad daylight, 

I’ve never seen so many stars. 

A particularly brilliant one made me think,

when they finally get round 

to inventing police helicopters,

searchlights could be very useful for chasing villains.

I looked all around the yard and though 

there was nothing amiss, I could hear a commotion 

in the stable block. I went over to check. 

The cheeky beggars 

were having a fancy dress party. 

The chalet-to-be was packed – 

one couple wearing angel wings, three Aladdins 

and four or five blokes dressed as shepherds – 

one holding a real-live, noisy lamb.

I was about to blow my top when I saw the baby. 

She must have had it, I thought 

(Sarah says nothing gets past me).

The baby caught my eye and smiled. 

Now you’re thinking it must have been wind, 

but I know I’m right, 

that baby definitely grinned. 

I felt unusually calm, 

congratulated the couple and said 

‘Everyone, enjoy the party, 

what a heavenly sight this is.’ 

And heavenly is not a word I use very often.

I returned to the inn with a warm feeling, 

convinced that in that particular place 

on that particular evening

all was well with the human race.

When Sarah heard the story she said,

‘Will you please stop talking. 

Take off your boots and come back to bed,

we’ve breakfast for twenty in the morning.’

‘But Sarah,’ I said. ‘We should give those people a gift

that young mother out there’s a real lady

tonight, something’s happened, 

right here in our midst

that child of hers is no ordinary baby.

Sarah I’ll lay my cards on the table -

I want a costume, 

there’s a party out there in our stable.’

                                                                                          © A J Taylor