Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing, Will they wake happy, with their faces all daft? Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.
Clamber over a set of eight legs, careful no tripping over. Soon they will see which fly is their gift. Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.
"Which is mine?" they spent the evening asking. "You'll just have to wait and see", I laughed. Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.
On the edge of the web, fill each stocking to the brim. Got to be quick and got to be swift. Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing.
Soon they'll rise and the house will be clicking with their pincers and not one unwrapped present left. Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.
Finish the Santa duty, time to start relaxing ready for the morning when tensions have halved. Keep quiet. Silent. Listen to their breathing. Deep breaths, little snores, fast asleep, sleeping.
A poem that I wrote a while a back, but never published.