Down among the greenery, there twinkles many a light;
A person stretches upward, suspending baubles in fine display,
They claim our admiration with colours bright and gay.
Strings of beads and tinsel festooned in loops and whorls
Around the tree are hanging as the beauty now unfurls.
Among the artificial snow, beneath the lowest pine,
Sits Santa Claus upon his sleigh in benevolence benign.
Close by upon the ground, laid out in fine array,
Are parcelled presents holding who knows what may.
Excited whispers now are heard, betraying children, five and four,
Tousled heads expectantly peer round the open door.
"He’s been! He’s been!" They scamper satisfied away
Then beneath the bedclothes await for The Great Day.
"Good." grunts Dad, "the magic’s working still."
"I’m glad," says Mum. "I’ll pray it always will."
Brian Sumner
