Christmas Magic

by Emma

He came creeping,
Silently and with quiet intent,
His clothes stroked the tree,
The baubles jingled,
The lights danced to his breath,
Illuminated flames from the hearth,
His smile reflected it’s purpose.

His beard frozen with snow,
Arms bulged with his joyous load,
His hands strong and soft,
He warms by the crackling flames,
He watches the sleepy feline stretching,
Enjoying the nightly peace,
The grandfather clock ticking to the sound of the icy flakes.

He listens to the silence,
Enjoys a supper of magic wishes,
The soft enchantment of the coming day,
He wipes his brow and chuckles,
Imagination alive with excited gasps,
He takes one last look,
Then quietly leaves, his satisfaction glowing like the trees mystical lights.

The mind of a deep thinker…or complete rubbish…it is all down to interpretation and perception…

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