Kids Poems To Jingle Your Christmas Tingle

Nothing happens in our small town.
New years Eve, we all count down.

For most the aim's to get a snog,
with old friend's wives or some stray dog.

Then whispers turn into a dare,
and spread around the market square.

Who will be the first to flee,
towards the balding Christmas tree?

Just then, the pine, so poorly lit,
has someone climbing onto it.

It wobbles as they reach the top.
The branches snap and bend and flop.

A policeman orders they get down.
But it comes crashing to the ground.

And there it lies across the floor,
looking better than before.

The climbing hero's led away,
and won't be seen 'til New Years Day.

The townsfolk boo and laugh and cheer,
and say they'll climb the tree next year.

©2009 Mark C Bird

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