A Lighthouse For Santa
By amanda_clapp
- 496 reads
Sand beneath my feet,
Hair blowing in the breeze,
Eyes closed, ears listening to the waves.
It waits patiently on the shore
Admiring the view.
A Cyclops eye guiding the by gone sailors.
Little feet pad up the wooden steps,
On tiptoes she peers through the door,
Nothing, but dust and cobwebs.
"So where did he go? Last night when I saw him,
From Lapland to Burnham and back?
Surely he must have a secret hideaway"
She sits on a step and ponders,
Over the hoof prints and sleigh trails in the sand
May be its magic&;#8230;
With the wind in my face
I smile over my fragile memories
Of Santa Claus and his summer retreat!
As the waves chase each other up the beach
The donkeys are on their way home.
The water covering their footprints,
To make way for tomorrow's memories.
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