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Tidying up my study and in the corner spy,
A stack of plastic boxes piled up so high.
On top a garden sack fastened up with tape.
Containing Father Christmas so he won't escape.
Boxes full of tinsel and baubles sparkling bright,
Others filled with twinkling lights,make an awesome sight,
The biggest box contains the tree, in bits for me to site.
When all is put together, the boxes all now empty
Log burner lit, nighttime comes alive, a wondrous sight to see.
It is so sad that all this work is done but once a year,
To celebrate our Saviors birth, when every day He's near.
I have a thought to share, that is, if you would be so kind,
Leave something up all year round to help keep Him in mind.
All the rest can be boxed up 'til Christmas comes again,
Santa goes back in his sack, where no dust makes a stain.
Jesus was born on Christmas Day to save man from his sin,
Remember as you decorate your tree, to let our Savior in.

© Dave Timperley 1 November 2016

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