Santa

   "A fantasy inside my head"

My best of friends had mockingly said.

But I knew in my heart, the child I be

That Santa indeed was no fantasy.

On Christmas morning, they rise from sleep,

To see their presents in a heap.

I'm often wrong, but I know to be true

Dreams don't pile presents

Under the tree two-by-two.

"An imaginative figure" they called my old friend,

But I know Santa's beard

Isn't any old trend.

He's there in my heart,

And that's where he'll stay

That's where he belongs

I'll love him, come what may.