I sat up late thinking

With the lights flickering

Wondering and weary

If the morning could delay

I had no money for gifts

To give my little ones

They will wake to a tree

That’s entirely gift-free

Several long hours fleetingly

Sleep falls in unwittingly

As my eyes close heavy

A noise comes suddenly

I hear a knocking,

Or maybe a rocking.

It’s coming from over there,

Or maybe over here.

I am not a young child

So my thoughts are wild

Maybe it’s a robber

Aloof upon my topper

It could be the lights,

Or maybe the mice.

Sounding like footsteps

Above us on the rooftops.

The walls are so thin

That we can hear our kin

So maybe it's nothing

But it could be something

But it’s a special night

Where all can be right

Is it too naïve to hope

Or should I just mope

But maybe with faith

I can attract the mirth

That should be present

Even for a peasant

With innocent glee

I to my bed flee

And stare at an icicle

Could it be a miracle

In the morning I rise

To quite a surprise

The kids are laughing

And joyously dancing

Under the tree I spy

What I can’t deny

A splendor of gifts

On this day of Christmas