It happens every year.
I get ready to fly around the world
while  the dream of sugarplums invades.
I’ve got it made, traveling around the earth
with little trouble. On the double and
more rapid than eagles, the reindeer game
we play has me away until my hands are purple.
Every citizen of the human condition is in luck.
The sleigh lag after Christmas; one of my favorite states!
I am Santa Claus…and I’m running late!


I’ll finally be the man I’ve aspired to be,
one of these days.
Happy in my station, a perpetual situation,
one of these days.
An unconvicted, man of conviction
one of these days,
who is as adept at poetry as at fiction.
One of theses days,
my wife and I will find comfort in the nest, and
one of these days,
when my daughters find their joy, it’ll be the best.
One of these days
the aches and pains will be tolerable, less taxing
one of these days
I’ll find time for relaxing.
One of these days
I’ll walk my daughters down the aisle, and
on those days,
I’ll sport a sad tear and a smile.
One of these days,
all of the projects I’ve started will find completion, and
one of these days
I’ll finish my novel, a fine first edition.
One of these days
I’ll run out of things to do, before I run out of time.
One of these days
when people say my name, they’ll say “He was fine!”
One of these days.


At the turn to the straight
where the favourites fail
the steeds, brave and strong,
run at a length and a tail.
The competition drives them,
roan and pitch hued behemoths alike
stretching and straining,
at the far turn as dust is strewn,
none the worse for their training.
Eyes wide and full in stride,
the gallop sounds of tympani,
and jockeys slight and wiry,
abreast the beast in harmony;
a oneness in their trek.
Crowded grandstands cheer,
while the purists fear their wagers
will offer no return but despair.
And in the paddock, comrades
stir them onward, whinny and neigh,
well on the way to a victory for one.
Off and running at the sound of a gun,
only to cross the line; photo finish.
A nose gets the win, and an equine grin.

**Inspired by “Do They Know?” by Australian poet, Banjo Paterson


(i carry Christmas with me)

i carry Christmas with me
(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without Christmas
(anywhere i am Christmas lives;
and whatever is done by me
is because of Christmas)
i fear no reprisal
(for it is my choice)
i want no ridicule(for the beauty
of Christmas has become my world)
and it is whatever
a child’s smile has always meant
and whatever melodic carol is sung
Christmas will be within me.

here is my deepest secret nobody knows
(the birth of love is the cause of my joy
and the bounce in my step
and the feeling of heart
for a time called Christmas;
which grows deeper than the soul can grasp
or mind can conceive)and it is this wonder
that’s keeping the spirit alive within me.

i carry Christmas(i carry it in my heart)

i am santa

***based on “i carry your heart ~e.e. cummings”