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The Dawn of Christmas Day

 

The Dawn of Christmas Day

By Katherine Eileen Dowling

It’s Christmas Morning, and the dawn is calling, Houses once in darkness are now flooded with light. The air is thick with the yells and the calling, Of children awakened to squeals of delight.

"He’s been!" they shout, bouncing on parents’ beds, While bleary-eyed Mums and Dads—who've only just laid their heads— Mumble a greeting as selection boxes are torn wide, Mouths quickly filled with the chocolate treasures inside.

Little girls with cotton rags tied tight in their hair, (Wishing for curls and a bit of festive flare), Dive into pillowcases filled to the brim, With nonsense and magic, all wrapped up for him.

The pets are aroused, hugged tight in the fray, Joining the children in the joy of the day. They feast on the tidbits the little ones share, As wrapping and ribbons fly through the air.

Mums and Dads surrender to the morning’s wild race, Trailing behind as the children leave the pillowcase. Down the stairs they tumble to see what else he’s brought— The bikes and the prams and the treasures they sought.

The skateboards, the cars, the expensive "only" toy, (The one they were told was their only source of joy), Yet they knew in their hearts, as children always do, That Father Christmas would bring more than just one or two.

Wrapping paper mountains now carpet the floor, The gas fire is lit and the kettle starts to roar. The radio plays as they dance and they squeal, Peering through frosted windows at a world that feels surreal.

For Jack Frost has been, leaving white on the pane, A shimmering world across the lane. And high in the sky, a Christmas star shines from afar, A lost loved one’s smile, wherever they are.

It hovers o’er the stable where a baby was born, On that first holy, hallowed, and wonderful morn. That is the reason for the season, we say, As we welcome the blessing of Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas to one and to all,

Katherine and my agent, Andrea

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