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The Present

mark merriman

Sunday, December 23rd, 2007

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Nine year old’s sense of
unbridled excitement
as the Big Day approaches.
Tall tree up, gifts wrapped,
carrots ready for Rudolph
and his reindeer.
And for Santa? A beer
and mince pies on a plate.
Yawning, to bed, but not to sleep,
tossing and turning restlessly.
Finally at peace, but only briefly;
waking to see if he had been.
Yes! Feeling around in early hours,
hearing the crackle
of wrapping paper.
Allowed to open one;
anticipation unbearable –
a pair of pants for pity’s sake!
Crushed.

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 Now over three decades later
and expectation laced
with sense of dread;
worrying that he
wouldn’t come at all;
waiting anxiously by the pc
for news.
Yawning, to bed, but not to sleep,
tossing and turning restlessly.
Finally at peace, but only briefly;
waking to see if he had been.
Yes! Peering bleary-eyed,
hearing the cackle
of hysterical fans.
Anticipation unbearable –
conditional deal signed;
relief of all palpable.
Elated.

© mark merriman sept 2004

Notes

Who says Father Christmas doesn’t exist? With the (conditional) signing of the takeover by the Andrew Fitton led consortium I’ve just received the best Christmas present any Town fan could get. The first verse is the true story of what happened to me one Christmas Eve many years ago!!

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/the-present/