A Neighborhood Child

One Christmas eve my ceiling hung With thready webs a glow behind Cast lace patterns on my bed That Yule eight reindeer ran the covers Then through every midnight room I cried to mother father brother All of whom had shed by dream Their task of season’s rush and bother Free but lost to my entreat “Can’t you see them paw prance? Oh mother how they rear and point At Santa – that jolly Christmas ghost” All filmy things once designated Then not real evaporated And I sat straight up in bed Rubbed the cobwebs from my eyes Memory of tinsel candy Presents in my drowsy head Awake to silence angel hair Little men in forest dress Imaginary pixies on the stair And then remembering the tree (all hazy else it seems had been a dream) The tree that by our fireplace rose In thought it glowed above the dreamy web Those blue green red silver lights Had formed quaint phantoms on my bed I’m up on tiptoe and carefully Am sneaking toward the living room (Inky blackness don’t you see) Don’t you see the little man Dressed in Santa suit belt and boots Spreading presents neath the tree Now truth be known so sorry am I to say ‘Little boy blue’ is yet in bed Those phantom figures swimming his head And late that eve ceiling bright With visions of the coming day The wisest Angel of the night Makes visit singing of the play A song of filial brotherhood With child invests the neighborhood