The Christmas Spirits


In the Christmas of childhood
When I was a tot
My Grandmother swaddled me
Safe in my cot

And she’d stand a long vigil
Her eyes closed in prayer
She knew well enough
That the monsters were there.

But they’d sent her away,
Called her baffled and cracked
And they never took from her
The wisdom they lacked.

Without her protection
Each year came the beasts
They’d stalk me and hunt me
Through carols and feasts.

In daylight they’d vanish,
As if by some trick
They’d been banished to nightmare
By good old Saint Nick.

“You can’t have a night-light!”
I’d often been told,
“I mean, we ne’er had such
At near eight years old!”

But light filled my room now
The noises it made!
A roaring and shaking
That banished the shade.

The wind that it stirred
Tugged the sheets from my head…
…and there stood a phone box
Parked next to my bed.

About Taskbaarchitect

Game Designer and Writer.
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