They say there is no Santa Claus
the bigger kids. Its just your dad
I don’t believe their lies of course
Although sometimes it makes me sad
I haven’t got a dad you see.
He died a long, long time ago
There’s just my mum my sis and me
That’s why I’m certain that I know.
There has to be a Santa Claus.
On Christmas morning there will be.
Some presents for each of us
in piles beneath the Christmas tree.
I only six but I know this.
That Santa works all through the night
making sure he does not miss.
A chance to bring a child delight.
One day I hope to catch the sight
of Santa Claus all dressed in red.
But mummy makes me go to bed
and she will watch for him instead.
She leaves mince pies and ginger wine.
Then she settles down to wait.
My sister goes to bed at nine.
Mum falls asleep and wakes too late.
He’s been and gone, so have the pies
While mother slept, kind Santa crept
into the house and ate the pies.
He left our presents while we slept.
At least that’s what my mother says.
If I should ask why she cries
On this the happiest of days.
Because I miss him she replies.
I’m not quite sure I understand
the reason for my mummy’s tears
Santa has gone back to Lapland
where has lived for years and years.
I think my older sister knows
A secret that she will not tell
She’s not allowed to suppose.
Because she sometimes cries as well.
But I’m a boy and boys don’t cry
But when they cry it makes me sad
Although I really don’t know why.
I never really knew my Dad.
Tuesday,01 December 2009
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