Poem - A Christmas Tale

In honour of the approaching Christmas season, I thought I'd break out a poem I wrote for a Christmas writing challenge a number of years ago. It was for the prompt "a walk through a house from the perspective of a child" because I wanted to write something with some rhythmic hurly burly to it as that’s the kind of poem I like best – something with a bit of gallop and a cadence – and that seemed to fit the bill, given that in my experience, small children do not so much walk through a house as push it out of their way as they pass. ;p.

 

A Christmas Tale 

 

The day was barely dawning when I woke on Christmas morning,

As excitement filled me up right to my core,

I flung aside the blanket as I leapt from bed all frantic,

Skipping, tripping, skidding, slipping to the door!

 

Christmas day was here now! The best day of the year! Wow!

What glories waited down beneath that tree?

Had Father Christmas called by, left the presents piled up knee-high,

In all colours shapes and sizes all for me?

 

But the clock said it was early and my parents would be surly

If I woke them before seven, so they’d said.

It seemed wisest not to rouse them, to poke them or to douse them,

So I headed down the passageway instead.

 

Behind the nearest bedroom door, I could hear my Daddy’s snore,

And my Mummy’s little whistle through her nose,

I stepped with care past Jess the cat, fast asleep upon her mat,

And headed for the staircase on tiptoes.

 

I knew the stairs were creaky so I needed to be sneaky,

I padded down on stockinged feet with care.

And then squinting through the dark, I saw the lights, the glow, the spark,

Of our Christmas tree… And presents waited there!

 

Heedless now of sneaking, I rushed forwards but NO PEEKING!

Was emblazoned on the paper in Mum’s scrawl.

But still I grabbed the nearest gift, no longer caring she’d be miffed,

And wow, look, cool! A bouncy, trouncy leather ball!

 

I kicked it high in to the air and it smacked into the chair,

Ricocheting off the armrest with a whack!

Hurtling past my outstretched fingers, it burst free towards the windows,

Before walloping the mantle with a smack!

 

And there was smashing, bashing, trashing as the big vase came a’crashing

Down against the purple carpet with a crack!

And I ran tumbling, bumbling, stumbling as I heard the floorboards rumbling

Overhead and footsteps barging, doors flung back!

 

Well Daddy, he was staring but my Mummy, oh, was glaring,

As with steely eyes, she raked over the mess.

And though it made me feel a rat, I quickly pointed to the cat,

“It wasn’t me, Mum, honest it was Jess!”

 

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