Magical Christmas

Children's eyes reflect the phosphorescence of the fire,

Warm inside, they look out at the snow;

Grandad sits down in his chair, the children huddle round,

He tells them all of Christmas long ago.

When the moon was full on Christmas Eve, he stood and watched for he believed,

That Santa Claus would call and say hello;

He thought he'd fought those heavy eyes, but woke, and looked across the skies,

And then he saw the sleigh tracks in the snow.

The children's eyes were full of glee as Grandead told his tale;

He told them how he'd never heard a thing;

Then one last look around the sky, in awe of all the stars,

Then half asleep, he heard the sleigh bells ring.

He flew downstairs with his torchlight on; the drink he'd left for Rudolph, gone,

The gifts he found, they lay beneath the tree;

To the downstairs window he did run, for Santa's deeds round here were done,

But would the man appear for him to see?

Anticipating magic, all the children looked in awe;

What did Grandad see that Christmas Eve?

Would he tell the children of that magic, moonlit night?

First, he made them promise to believe.

He looked outside, in fear, he saw; a sight he'd never seen before;

An arch of silver starlight in the sky;

The sleigh had lifted off so soon, a silhouette against the moon;

And Santa Claus himself, waving goodbye.

Young Grandad waved, he'd lost all fear, he waved at Santa's face of cheer;

He wasn't dreaming, things they looked so real;

As the starlight faded, who'd believe what Grandad saw that Christmas Eve;

But the children saw how special he did feel. By Peter Stones

Linden Walk, Bradshaw

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.