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Array
(
[sid] => 77014
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Eve of Mystery
[time] => 2004-12-23 11:35:29
[hometext] => written on a thought...
[bodytext] => I drive through the streets of the neighborhood And watch the pretty lights twinkle. Houses are covered in a rainbow of sparkling colors. I stop outside a particularly outstanding display And watch in the window the family moving around inside. The adults are sitting by the fire as the children decorate the tree. It is Christmas Eve and this family is getting ready for Santa’s arrival. As the children hang the last of the decorations on the tree, The adults clean up the room readying for the children’s bedtime. After the children are ushered upstairs to their slumber filled with ginger bread and jingle bells, The adults sneak back down the stairs; their arms full of gifts to place under the tree. All are labeled to Bobby or Jane from Santa Clause. I arrive back at my home to darkened windows. The family is already in bed and snow is lightly falling from the sky. The chill in the air chases me into the house, out of the frozen rainfall. I enter my home to see our tree surrounded with gifts, They are piled high around and all decorated with pretty bows and colored paper. I lie awake in my bed waiting for the sleep that will deliver me into Christmas morning. I watch the clock hit midnight and I hear noises being made above me. I listen closely and hear stomping through the snow on the roof. I go to the top of the stairs to see a figure walking around the living room. It crouches by the tree and then disappears. I thought I had stopped believing in Santa Clause. The children of this house are already grown up, and Kris Kringle is still visiting our tree. I find myself questioning whether I had been tricked into seeing someone there. If only my sleepy eyes have imagined this figure in the house. And then I hear more noises above me on the roof. I run to the window to watch the figure of a shadow travel across the moon. This leaves me wondering whether the idea of Santa Clause is only a myth told to small children. I head back to my bed to wait for morning when I can discover what was added under our Christmas tree by the mysterious visitor. I am wakened the next morning by my sister yelling my name up the steps. She is calling for me in order to start Christmas morning. I walk down the stairs to see nothing changed from when I was last in the room. Nothing was added under the tree, nothing moved from where it was originally placed. And these last discoveries leave me doubting whether the figure I saw in the night really existed Or if I had been imagining the figure in the living room, the noises on the roof, and the shadow that passed across the moon. This next day is filled with Christmas cheer, family, friends and love from all around. A white blanket covers the outside world and when the day comes to a close, I give up thinking about the mystery. If Santa clause is really a magical man in existence, it might be better that no one is sure of it. I leave the mystery for time to solve; And decide to believe that maybe the magic of the season does indeed, bring gifts to good young people in need of love and happiness. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 194 [topic] => 18 [informant] => dragonluvsong [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Holiday Poetry )
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