The Visit

‘Twas a fortnight till Christmas
And all through the flat
Not a creature was stirring
She’s glad about that…

She’d had quite enough
Throwing balls for the day
And had told me concisely
To put them away.

The birds in the garden
All slept for the night,
(I’d sorted the pigeons…
They’d put up a fight)

The fish had been fed
And now hid in the weed,
I snored on the sofa,
She curled up to read.

Then all of a sudden
A knock on the door
Made me jump up to see,
And the book hit the floor…

“Now who could be calling
At this time of night?”
She picked up her keys
And turned on the hall light…

So I’m back on duty,
You never can tell…
And if monsters are out there,
I’ll chase them to Hell.

She slipped on my lead
As she opened the door,
While I waited ready
With growl, tooth and paw…

But as the door opened
The voices began
It wasn’t a monster,
Not even a man…

Just lots of small children
All singing with joy
About Christmas angels
And one baby boy.

They were only little
And should be in bed…
I don’t understand
All the words that they said.

I do understand, though,
The message they brought…
It is one that no creature
Shoud need to be taught…

To love one another,
With kindness and care,
To treat with respect
And to help and to share…

She listened, all smiling,
With tears on her face…
As if she’d been given
Some vision of grace.

‘Twas a fortnight till Christmas
And out in the night
Small faces were shining
Reflecting the Light.

With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore