Through a child’s eyes
The bedroom door creaks open in the house so quiet
An excited child’s voice is heard to say “has he been yet?”
A child to excited to sleep, on this special of days
Lying in bed, waiting for the sound of a sleigh
To children the world over
Whether they are privileged or poor
This should be their day, just because
It’s the day of the visit by Santa Claus
As the children open the stocking on the bed
And wrapping papers are torn to shreds
Of the presents left under the tree
High pitched excited voices screech, “look what Santa left me”
Parents, look on lovingly, happy and proud
As the still of the night, is now chaotic and loud
Be it a doll and a pram, or a Scalextric
The children play blissfully, with not a thought of Brexit
Children play, not comparing the cheapest or most expensive
This is Christmas day, a day of peace to all, and gifts to give
A day not to compare price tags
As there are no price tags in Santa’s red bag
Then later in the day as we sit down and feast
We shouldn’t forget about those who have the least
As we lunch on Turkey, Christmas pudding and mulled wine
Think of those in shop doorways at this most special time
As we doze in our chairs, sated, and well fed
Give a thought to those, who have nowhere to rest their heads
Homeless or mentally ill, living in cardboard city
Some alone, some depressed, needing help, not needing pity
Also, as we watch our children play
At a time that should be a child’s day
Let us say a prayer for children in famine, or war torn lands
These children whose fate is out of their hands
As the religious and political leaders preach and tweet
Not thinking of those, all alone on the streets
Tweeting to millions, preaching to the masses
While looking after the wealthy upper classes
Let the children sit in their chairs
And tell stories from the heart, with feeling and care
Care for those who don’t have enough food to eat
Or the mentally ill, languishing on our streets
Or the child living in impoverished conditions
Drinking dirty water, not fit for human consumption
Living in a wooden shack, with a mud floor for a carpet
These children with nothing, but yet....
These children always seem to have a smile on their faces
Even though they are living in the vilest of places
Some in a cesspit of fear
A child so scared, but a child with no more tears
Our children we can protect, and shower with love
Our children are not terrified what is in the skies above
As our children ask “has he been yet”
Let us all see the world through a child’s eyes, and let us not forget
As we watch our children, feast, laugh and play
And gleefully celebrate Christmas day
As the fortunate ones excitedly open their presents
Please save the time to say a prayer, for the less fortunate
Copyright Ralph Jones