Cards and glitter, scissors, glue,

paints and pencils, some pens too.

I tell our son its time for crafts,

he rolls his eyes and then he laughs.

“Christmas crafts”, I tell him next,

he stares at me, looks perplexed.

“Come and try, we’ll have some fun,

you could make cards, at least do one.

Do a picture, paint a scene,

that book there shows what I mean”.

He flicks some pages, shakes his head,

“Can’t I play my games instead?”

“Park yourself, here, at the table,

create something, I know you’re able”.

He picks up paper and a pen,

draws a star and then some men.

He colours them and gets the glue,

enjoying doing something ‘new’.

We’ve done these kinds of things before

but they’re seen now as quite a bore.

Out come a paintbrush, glitter too,

some while later, “That will do”.

He turns it round for me to see.

Included now, a Christmas tree,

animals, a crib, a stable,

my son gets up to leave the table.

I ask about the things I see –

“Thats what Christmas means to me”.