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Santa MAG
"A fantasy inside my head"
My best of friends had mockingly said.
But I knew in my heart, the child I be
That Santa indeed was no fantasy.
On Christmas morning, they rise from sleep,
To see their presents in a heap.
I'm often wrong, but I know to be true
Dreams don't pile presents
Under the tree two-by-two.
"An imaginative figure" they called my old friend,
But I know Santa's beard
Isn't any old trend.
He's there in my heart,
And that's where he'll stay
That's where he belongs
I'll love him, come what may.
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