From a Tree Top by Kathy Carter

By December 15, 2014July 12th, 2023Beneath the Willow Tree

I’ve been in a box for almost a year.
Then suddenly, daylight, a movement a stir.
Unwrapped from tissue, dusted and kissed,
My wings are unfurled, my satin untwist.
And carried like gold to the top of a tree,
The height of it, secretly scary to me.
I wobble and sway, I tip, almost fall
But gentle hands catch me and stand me up tall.

From high up above I can see down below
The ornaments twinkle, the fairy lights glow.
And children, wide eyed as they clap and they dance,
Excitement is building, for tonight, just perchance
Across the night sky, speeding straight, rounding bends
A sleigh full of gifts pulled by strong antlered friends.
A ruddy faced man with a long flowing beard
Is riding so high over rooftops well cleared.

I watch as the children lay sacks to be filled.
They laugh and they giggle, excited and thrilled
Leaving carrots for Rudolph with his nose oh so red
They rush up the stairs so eager for bed.
And so as snow falls and night gathers round
In the peace of the house there is barely a sound.
The cat from his chair gazes up at the tree
His eyes sharply glint as he stares up at me.
He thinks about climbing the branches so steep
Then he stretches and yawns and falls back to sleep.

Then midnight is struck by the clock in the hall
And if I’m not mistaken I hear a foot fall
On the roof top above, then a slip and a slide,
A crash in the grate. Yes! Santa’s arrived.
He dusts off the soot, stamps his large frozen feet
And cheek of it all! Rudolph’s carrots did eat!
With a quiet Ho! Ho! He bends to his sack
And searches for presents labelled Lucy and Jack
And into their sacks he packs boxes in tight
Then off up the chimney disappears in the night.

I watch as he twitches the long leather reins.
The sleigh then speeds off o’er the fields and long lanes.
And the crash and the jangle of reindeer bells
Disappear in the night o’er the forests and dells.
And the cat from his chair, he opens one eye
And lazily watches the frosty night sky.
He stretches and scratches and curls in a ball
Whilst silently, gently snowflakes tumble and fall.

The house is so still, just the tick of the clock
The light from the moon gives a glint to my frock.
And the bells of the church fall silent and still
As icicles form on the cold window sill.
So now I must wait through the hours of peace
Till the house stirs again and voices increase.
Meanwhile, I will sleep on my treetop so high
And wait for the children to burst in and cry
‘He’s been! Yes, he’s been! Our presents are here!
Oh Merry Christmas!’ they shout ‘and a Happy New Year!’