deepundergroundpoetry.com

Make Believe

Do we live in make believe
a land of queens and witches
of frogs and moles and teddy bears ?
I think we do, at least I do.
There was a Father Christmas
when I was young, came once a year
sometimes in the snow, but only once,
I prayed at Sunday school for him to call
went to bed right early,
never heard him call, but
call he did to help out Mam,
Dad too, with apples and a shilling
 pillow case hung behind the door;
 goose cooked for dinner,
the pudding did not burn..........
brandy beyond Dad's means,
but we laughed and went to Granny's
played Pit on Boxing Day
processed round the family,
Christmas cake and cheese
twelve mince pies for happy months,
all from different ovens.
Twelth  night  and the tree was down
folded in the cupboard.
Then school again
to show my friends my presents,
socks and shoes and pencil box
Treasure Island in soft back
Rupert Bear and Kidnapped.
I  still live in make believe,
call it luck,that was my luck
there is no other name.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published | Edited 15th Nov 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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