On Christmas morning, all alone, With hopes of gifts to see; Down the stairway, I did fly, To look beneath my tree. I flipped the lights on in the hall, I didn’t want to fall; The cats came rushing down with me - A holiday for all. Around the corner to the room Where I’d put up the tree; We rushed together in the chill To see what we would see. A timer runs the coffee pot, Aroma filled the air; I grabbed a cup to keep me warm When at my gifts I’d stare. But underneath the tree we looked, For gifts that Santa brought. But nothing filled the emptiness; No gifts, as we had thought. Maybe next year, maybe not We’ll have to wait and see; Someday Santa Clause will come With gifts to visit me.
Christmas Morn ’04
Published inPoetry
Be First to Comment