On Christmas Morn Copyright © Rod O'Donoghue 2011

The white moon wanes at dawn of winter’s day
While fairy dust, once sprinkled on the lawn,
Begins to steam and upward wends its way.
Iced panes of glass slow melt as children yawn
Excited breath, or draw, with fingers raw
And cold, a smiley face or five point star.
“Get up!” she calls, “’Tis Christmas Day once more!”
See woolly socks hang bright beneath the bar,
White berried mistletoe for all to see
In festive doorways decked with red and green?
The children wait for gifts with verve and glee,
Amazed that Santa came last night unseen.

Yet tucked aside a new born babe awakes
The cattle low and, still, no sound He makes.