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A Young Boy’s Christmas

The rush of Christmas hits our home
And time begins to spin;
We cut the trees than duck the bees
That found their home within.

My brother hangs the mistletoe,
‘Though dead apposed to kissin’;
And strings of lights with twenty-four bulbs,
Twenty of which are missin’!

We children list the things we want,
We make it understood;
“I’ll take a horse, a top, a train,
But underwear’s no good!”

The tree is trimmed with tasty treats
And, though the rules are strict,
The cookie angels lose their heads,
And candy canes are licked.

As Christmas Eve rolls around,
The height of all suspense,
Children thunder and parents wonder
How to pay December’s rents.

Our parents rush us kids to bed,
But do we sleep? No way!
Our eyes turn toward the window,
Searching for signs of day.

Our folks recall the “good old days”
When kids got wooden tractors;
Now they assemble through the night
On nuclear reactors.

Christmas morning comes so slow,
(Though much too soon for others);
We all rush out like wild men
Scrambling over brothers.

We see what Santa’s brought us,
We could not ask for more;
We wonder why our silly folks
Lie knocked-out on the floor!

We all await our presents,
Prepared for a surprise;
Except for Dad, ’cause every year
He gets the usual ties.

Father confiscates the toy
Whose ownership’s disputed;
While others read the dreaded words;
“Batteries not included”.

Sister asks if Santa Claus
Is all that he appears;
The elves who built her Big Wheel
Used graphics reading “Sears”.

The day continues hectic,
We children play and shout;
And for the moment we forget
What Christmas is about.

But then, that night, when all is still,
And all our playing’s done,
We get together and thank our God
For His Only Begotten Son.

This marks the anniversary
Of that most eventful day;
He came to earth by holy birth
That we might know the way.

And we get this wondrous feeling
‘Mongst the wrapping paper torn;
The greatest gift that we received
Came long before we were born.

Picture of Wes Stephenson

Wes Stephenson

Author, motorcyclist, poet, and adventurer. Let's journey together.



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