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Poem
Midnight strikes, the world is sleeping; hours until the dawn starts creeping,
Over hills and trees and rivers, bringing in another day.
In the darkness safe and hidden, a visitor somewhat unbidden,
Makes their way across the landing, careful not to make a peep,
Careful in their quiet journey not to stir a soul from sleep.
...
Without light the path is steady, every step feels harsh and heavy,
As the visitor moves softly, slowly; skirting creaky boards.
'what's their aim?' I hear you wonder 'surely they have come to plunder,
In the night all they can gather, gather for them self to keep,
Then beneath nights shielding curtain, steal away on nimble feet'.
...
Fear not friend, you needn't fret, this visitor is not a threat,
Has not come to thieve or borrow, from this house this winters day.
Rather their benign intention, is without notice or pretention,
To leave behind them gifts and goodies, offerings so kind and sweet,
Gifts for those whom year on year, they give so much but never meet.
...
In the kitchen sits a platter, a simple thanks to mark the matter,
To show the visitor their passing, was not ungraciously received.
A pint of ale and pie to fill him, fuel him on his rounds this evening,
And carrots for his waiting reindeer, up upon the rooftop steep,
Waiting for their kindly master to complete his crucial sweep.
....
Daylight breaks and promptly rouses, dreamers within countless houses,
Each one drawn with eager fervour, keen to see what they've been brought.
As children chant and cheer his name. Crying out "He came, he came"
Chaos reigns in joyous wonder, coloured paper forms a heap,
As one by one the gifts are opened, glorious spoils for all to reap.
....
Now the sun shines, high and bright; gone is the one who came last night,
Leaving not just gifts but wonder in the hearts of all he reached.
All those dreamers who were sleeping, as last night he came a-creeping,
through their halls and over landings, careful not to make a peep,
Careful in his quiet journey not to stir a soul from sleep.
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