Email Poem

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Poem

This time of year there's something that seems to always occur
No matter how hard we fight against it out pops the kid we once were
There's something about Christmas that tends to turn back the clock
Raising all kinds of old memories and giving our aging bodies a bit of a shock
Oh, we try and deny it saying "Christmas has lost all its luster"
And then the kid inside will answer saying "that's a lot of humbug and bluster"
Most can't remember when they learned that all those presents under the tree
Were actually put there by Dad as we slept dreaming so carefree
But it doesn't seem to matter in those fleeting moments when the kid does arrive
For a few precious seconds we are back home again young and alive
On Christmas Eve as a kid I would run outdoors to scan the dark sky
Hoping to see St. Nick's sleigh pulled by reindeer pass by
And you may think me daft or beset with a host of other maladies
For still today on Christmas Eve (when the kid arrives) out pop the whimsicalities
I find myself standing on the porch looking upward like an old senile loon
Waiting for St. Nick to fly by across the full moon.

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