Do they know…
Ever closer ticktocks the clock,
nearing the minute, the hour,
of the day some think sweet, some sour.
All wait to glimpse the holy frock.
Tots faking sleep wait for the knock,
be it on the roof or the door,
as long as they get more, more, more.
Don’t fret to wrap in bows or twine,
cause all you’ll hear is mine, mine, mine.
Don’t they know why the day is for?
My entry for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge NO. 35 KNOCK.
© 2020- Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.