Little Man

The party was nice

Not a boring affair

With music, laughter and a fancy feast

A highlight of the season, to say the least

The night was lit bright white

From the moon on the winter ice

And snow everywhere

And the light of the star of the east

The time came to go

Take ones proper leave

From the warmth of friends and fire

From passions, pleasures and desire

Into the cold, crisp, chrystal bite

To make ones path in the snow

Where ever it may weave

Snug in seasonal attire

His hat wrapped his head

And held the heat so nice

Despite what non-believers said

He thought it was good advice

His thick coat kept out the cold

Where the winter wind would seep

It was a defence so dense and bold

It could almost lull him to sleep

His shiny boots sloshed on

To points of planned purpose

Leaving trails where they've gone

On a slick and slippery surface

His gloves were well worn

Yet somehow still sound

Through the toils they stayed warm

As they laboured around the town

It was such suitable attire

One could always wonder

What could possibly transpire

That could marr his armour

Could there be such a blunder

That could take him from this norm?

He thought not

Aa he strode so proud

All he had got

Was above the crowd

The birds sang

To give him a tune

The churchbells rang

For his silver spoon