I Think My Dad is Santa.

I think my Dad is Santa

but I can't be sure.

I caught a glimpse of red once

as he went out the door.

My Daddy has a white beard,

and a big round belly.

Where, sometimes I can sit

with Dad and watch the telly.

Now I have seen some Santa's

this last week or so,

they all look like my Daddy

but I don't really know.

Daddy always comes home from work,

black from head  to toe.

He could have been down chimneys,

But I'm not sure, I really know.

I am certain he's Father Christmas

for every Christmas eve.

I catch a glimpse of a red suit,

and Mum puts out black wellies.

I wonder where he keeps the sleigh,

And all of those reindeer.

And how does he deliver presents

in one night every year.

Twinkling lights at windows,

children's faces all aglow.

Noses pressed at cold panes,

waiting for it to snow.

I think My Dad is Santa

but I cannot shout it aloud.

But I am glad my dad is Santa

because it makes me feel so proud.

Now I wait up for Daddy.

I watch for him each time.

But tonight no sign of Daddy

and now it is bedtime.

 Now I know one thing for certain,

One point is very clear.

On Christmas eve my Daddy

always disappears.

 I'll just put Daddy's present

beneath the  little Christmas tree.

When he comes home on Christmas morn,

It's the first thing that he'll  see.

Before I go to sleep tonight

I will look up at the sky,

To look for Daddy and the reindeer

and wish them a safe flight.

Merry Christmas Daddy. X