A poem I had published a few years ago

We’ve brushed our teeth and had a drink,
So it’s off to bed,
For tonight’s the night that Santa comes,
Or so my Mummy said,

We lay there in excitement,
To see if we could see,
This jolly little person,
Who brings us Christmas glee,

So as it becomes later,
And the time is drawing near,
We listen out for sleighbells,
Or the sound of his reindeer,

And we pull the bed-clothes higher,
So that we can peep,
But then,
Oh no, it’s morning,
We must have fallen asleep

My present sack is bulging,
The mince pies have disappeared,
Oh how I wish I could have seen,
His famous bushy beard,

Oh well, let’s open up our presents,
I hope he got my list,
He did, Oh thank-you Santa,
If you really do exist.