It’s just on midnight, there’s a noise out side , is that someone breaking in ? all of us are awake, defiantly something or someone making a noise ,the door is opening, slowly, a shaft of light silhouettes a figure hardly moving for the weight of a large bag over his shoulder. “ Oi” I shout, hang on goats don’t shout Oi, but before I can gather my thoughts there are more shouts of “who are you “ “what do you want?” everyone has joined in, the horses, cats, my lady goats and even the dogs we are all speaking human.
“Shhhh “ says the old man with the sack “it’s the magic hour ,at midnight all God’s animals speak,
In the barn on Christmas Eve, After all the people leave,The animals, in voices low, Remember Christmas long ago . Its an old poem you see “ and he sat down with us and recounted the verse. And when he’d finished he was gone, leaving just a memory and a gift, an apple.
I like apples.
Merry Christmas two and four leggers.
Eric
No comments:
Post a Comment