Monday, 30 January 2017

The January Santa

Past midnight she came, darkness providing refuge,
The stairs grumbled and sighed in protest.
Now the stocking hung, she wistfully watched
The dying embers take their last breaths.
Death called out like a panacea, however,
Reconciliation lay in Time's hand alone.
With morning came, excited voices 
And the pitter patter of little feet.
The stocking discovered, dolls and cars and trains
Held tightly in each little hand.
Unnoticed and unobserved, the little girl held
The discarded stocking close to her little heart.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...