by Jasmine Cason aged 9

Christmas, you’re asleep and excited to open your presents,
To see if Santa has eaten your mince pies and taken the carrots.

You caught Santa flying away,
You look in your stocking in the morning,
Then your tree and find presents in both.

You look at the baubles,
Then you shout.
Christmas breakfast.
You open the cracker. Boom!
Now you are playing in the icy, soft snow.

The Poetry Zone

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