Creeping down stairs, not making a sound
A little boy looks under the tree, glee in his eyes
Seeking for so many presents to be found
Wondering what is in them, what is the surprise?

Suddenly he hears a noise, a ringing of a bell
The little boy creeps behind the sofa to hide
Is it his papa?, there is no way to tell
He might be angry and smack his backside

He peeks out and sees a glimpse of red
The little boy is scared, who can it be?
Maybe it is a bugular come inside instead
Steal everything there, oh what misery!

"Little boy, be you not afraid my friend"
"I know you are hiding behind there"
It was a voice, someone good in the end
Someone special who always loved to share

He came from behind the sofa, feeling shy
Santa was standing there, rosy cheeks and a smile
The little didn't know what to do, should he cry?
Would Santa take away his presents in a pile?

"Little boy, this time of year is only for you"
"Children of the world are special to us all"
"Take your gifts away?, that I would never do"
"Please go to bed, and wait for morning to call"

The little boy did this, and slept in dream land
He awoke that morning with an excited sigh
Went door stairs, holding his mamas' hand
And noticed on the table, a half eaten mince pie




copyright Chris Smith 27th December 2010