Christmas Morning (unfinished)

February 21, 2012
Christmas morning bright and sweet,
Christmas morning where all hope meets.
The hope of presents under the tree the hope of love, strong as can be.
Strong as the light on top tree, guiding me as I tiptoe to see.
To see the stockings hung up one by one, to see if Santa has come.
I peek from hallway, afraid to see. Afraid to see if he didn’t leave presents for me.
But of course he did, how couldn’t though?

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