fauxcroft

Was it just me or when I was young were Christmases always white,

I remember waking up and going down stairs, to start the coal fire we had,

Boy, it was cold in the morning until we got it fired up and roaring,

No central heating back then, you went to bed and got up cold but that was how it was,

It never caused me to get sick and I think we were all hardened to it,

Thick sheets and covers on my bed not like the duvets we have now,

And I remember brimming with happiness at Christmas, opening my presents

In the dim light, in front of the open fire,

And though I knew I wouldn’t get much, I was happy getting anything at all,

It mattered not if it was big or small, sometimes, boots or a football,

I once asked for a telescope, ended up with a microscope but they meant well after all,

But it still remains in my mind that every Christmas seemed to be white,

Though I am sure that isn’t true, the thought still fills my mind full of delight,

I remember these days as good times and that’s what gives me a positive mind.