Some bath stuff for young Chelsea Her daughter, seventeen
In adults only packaging As they didn’t know she’d been
Out with half the neighbourhood Spreading Christmas cheer
Their little precious angel Had had a busy year
11 left and time moves on To Waterstones I come
Patricia Cornwell for a mate Titchmarsh for my Mum
A Rugby book on Jonny For a friend who likes his rear
8 now and I need a break But there isn’t time I fear
So I grab a Mars bar on the run I think I have a plot
I nip into a photo shop One-use cameras for the lot
Think ahead the way to win When you’ve a lot of names
So next year I can get them Sets of photo frames
I staggered back to starbucks Collapsed upon a chair
To see a shadowed figure Standing quietly there
They held a gentle hand to me A little present there
I thought you’d like it it might help To know that someone cared
The box when it was opened Was empty in my hand
I Showed my disappointment For I didn’t understand
The being told me gently With a grace no mortals will
What was in the gift he’d given And remained there still
The box is just a symbol For an idea not so new
But forgotten by so many When Christmas time falls due
For in the box is simply nothing But nothing tells each day anew
dreadful things won’t happen If you have space for you