Authors note Hi guys! You really ate up my last two poems and so, I'm introducing my newest one! *Clap clap!* Since the holidays were rapidly approaching I decided to do my first poem about Christmas! I love this holiday and you know snow is the best thing to make a poem out of! (not true, ha, best thing to write a poem about is a dream but, I already did that. Plus I have a fetish for snow :})
My eyes flutter open silently as I lay tucked under my blankets
There is no sun lighting my room so, it must be early morning..
It's Christmas morning and there is a blanket of snow quietly laying on the ground
Silence fills the house as I hear my father snore into the room next to mine
I wonder if he is aware as well that it is Christmas morning
My brain races with the idea of the endless sea of presents sitting under the elaborately lit tree
I throw my covers off and they lightly fall the the ground
It is cold in my dim house as I hobble out of bed
The door creaks as I open it and I hope I did not wake father
Snow outside is more illuminated by our porch lights outside the window
Fathers bed creaks and I wonder if he heard my door
He will be very displeased if he were to find out I have woken up this early
I pause for a moment but then continue down the stairs, without a peep
Brushing my hands along the soft velvet stockings along the railing I run into the den
There lie a mountain of presents wrapped and places neatly, like someone took an hour placing each one
I wonder were old saint nick is now, and what he has left for me
There is another creak from my fathers bed and I know he is awake
Panic shocks my mind and I race behind the curtains that easily drape around me
The stairs creak as my Father trudges down the stairs
Oh no! He's making his way over to the presents
His bare feet press hard on the plushy carpeting as he ponders something
I lean in closer to the window and shift so you can no longer see my feet
But father must of seen the curtains move a bit and so he un- wraps me from my hiding spot and he smiles, lets out a little chuckle
"Cindy, why are you hiding in there?" Father asks solemnly
"I thought you would be angry if you knew I was up this early." I whimper looking down, twisting the curtains in between my fingers
He gives me another chuckle and kisses my forehead "How could I expect anything else?"
The curtain drops from my hand and I give him a questioning look
"It means that I knew you would be down here." He kisses the same place on my head
I giggle at my own foolish mistake and wrap my arms around his lanky legs in a desperate attempt at a hug
Father pats my head and places himself on the couch
And then we watch the snow fall lightly to the ground as if it were feathers
