Memories of a Childhood Christmas

Mum and me I remember,
walking home in dark December,
would peak in windows keen to see,
who was first to put up their tree.

From the pantry often stole,
a mince pie or a sausage roll.
Gone long before The Day and then,
Mum had to make then all again.

Silver tree, the same each year,
decorate with baubled cheer.
And every year the yearly fight,
to get the fairy lights to light.

Off to sleep with prayers said,
and stocking hung at end of bed.
Hope that Santa has remembered,
the hopeful wish in letter tendered.

And wake before the break of day,
to presents wrapped in paper gay.
Stocking full of toys to humour,
chocolate Santa and Satsuma.

Turkey put in prompt at eight,
so the dinner won’t be late.
And in the distance church bells ring,
to try and call the heathens in.

Roast potatoes, turkey, stuffing,
followed by a flaming pudding.
Then dinner cleared away and we,
would listen to the Queen at three.

Replete with food we’d sit and doze,
with daylight drawing to a close.
Then tea in front of fire’s warm glow,
of Christmas cake, peaked icing snow.

Another Christmas nearly done,
of memories made and full of fun.
With sleepy eyes and goodnights said,
I’d slowly climb the stairs to bed.