Father Christmas,

one with the prodigy's night,

Father Christmas,

with that great beard,

Father Christmas,

you come with delicate surprises

and secret, silent footsteps.
 
 

Tonight I am leaving you my stocking

hanging from the windowsill.

Don't empty all your sacks,

before you pass by my house.
 
 

Father Christmas, Father Christmas,

you're going to find my stockings

drenched with dew.

With rascal eyes, I've glimpsed

the river of your beard…
 
 

Shake out the tears and leave

each shoe brimming and stuffed full

with Cinderella's ring

and Red Riding Hood's wolf.
 
 

And don't forget Marta.

Her shoe is empty, too.

She is my neighbor

and I have cared for her

ever since her mama died.
 
 

Father Christmas,

old Father Christmas,

oh those huge hands spilling gifts,

those impish heaven-colored eyes

and that beard of wondrous fluff!
 
 
 

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Page last edited February 14, 2000
by: PhoneBoy