Sam’s Christmas

Santa’s been to leave his gifts 
and children’s socks to quietly fill, 
the morning air is still and clear 
as Sam sits on the windowsill

in silence sitting, one eye squinting, 
blinded by the snow 
that lies beyond the window 
in the garden down below 
and covers smiling fishing gnomes 
and last years broken toys 
and promises a magic day 
for woolly girls and boys

that only now are waking 
from adventures of the night 
and wiping clear their sleep filled eyes 
to view the wondrous sight 
of a world transformed from murky grey 
and sodden muddy green 
to glorious white and brilliant blue 
with air so crisp and clean.

Sam sits and waits on the windowsill 
and watches random snowflakes fall
in that quiet time before the throngs 
of gloved and scarf wrapped bundles all
descend with squeals and laughter 
breaking mornings spell 
and rearranging natures perfect silken cloaks 
to lumpen coal eyed sentry’s guarding icy forts.

He has no wish to venture out 
on this cold December day 
but prefers to sit and wait and watch
the floating snowflakes lay 
another ermine coat to gardens, roads and walls
Sam quietly sits on the windowsill
and cleans again his snow white coat and paws.