The boxes in the attic have been opened once again
And the contents really aren't a pretty sight -
A tired old artificial tree and miles of tangled wire
With bulbs that just don't seem to want to light.
A box is shaken on the street to ask us all to give
A little for the needy in Peru.
But in the winter's cold our hands stay buried in our pockets
So the needy in Peru must just make do.
Expensive toys in boxes are stacked high upon the shelves,
And wrapping paper waits to play its role
In making pretty presents that most surely must have come
From Santa's little helpers at the Pole.
Families in their theatre boxes watching pantomime,
They're hissing, booing, shouting with great glee,
And passing round a box of chocs to keep the children sweet,
I wonder if they'll want to eat their tea.
Christmas boxes for the milkman and the paperboy
Who'll still deliver when the snow is deep.
But of them all, the most important box on Christmas Day
Is the one we watch before we fall asleep.
the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved