Christmas
Memories
A stocking hitched to the foot of the bed
Anticipation and excitement in my heart
An eye kept half open, although Mum said
If you see him, you’ll give him a start
We left beer and biscuits under the tree
For Father Christmas to sup on when here
I still lay awake and hoped I could see
Santa walks in here and knocks back the beer
The sandman arrived. I was out for the count
Then a noise woke me up in the night
A shadow shuffled nearby. I could barely recount
Because I held my breath and stayed out of sight
I lay still as a log till all was silent once more
Then squinted at the stocking, now bulging and full
And imagined what surprises were in store
Toys and gifts, both exotic and bountiful
Christmas morning was here. I opened the stocking
It was stuffed with gifts made by the elves
Some were wooden, and sweets Mum called shocking
And I imagined Santa’s shop’s secret shelves
I handled each gift in wonder and awe
And thought of the elves in a workshop in the sky
It must be one humungous toyshop and store
Winged here by magic reindeer, Santa’s type that fly
There was turkey at Christmas lunch later in the day
But the highlight was the magic Christmas pudding
Before eating, we’d give thanks, a prayer we’d say
And hope to reap sixpences and three pence it would bring
The brandy butter sent most of us silly.
And Christmas carols with made-up words we would sing
I acted the fool and was the completely silly Billy
Christmas day in the heat, what a joyous and wonderful fling
©
David Rudder
2022
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