Sam Wilding Aka Paul Murdoch's Podcast

A Poem : A Christmas Day, by Paul Murdoch (Sam Wilding) Their hearts race on as darkness still entwines the Christmas dawn, The bed clothes fall and tiny yelps of joy announce the morn. No time to yawn, or stretch or groan; no time to check the clock, As stocking yarn is stretched and teased, we hear a plaintive knock. ‘Oh look what Santa left last night! ’ They cant believe their eyes, As we, still trying to focus, shrink back from wondrous cries. They bounce upon the covers and make it hard to see, The tawny, flashing digits, that say it’s ‘half past three? ’. ‘Get back to bed! For pity’s sake, we’ve only shut our eyes! ” But threats and accusations can’t stifle their surprise, So bleary-eyed we try to smile, ungracious in defeat, Our wooden hearts soon splinter neath tiny running feet. A small stampede upon the stairs, a rush to reach the tree, Where magic lights and small delights are laid for you and me. The tinsel trails and plastic rails adorn the festive sight, Of shredded paper mou