Hiding Poem by The Catholic Irishman

I crept into the hollow of the tree
And waited there patiently for the outcome.
It was not long before they started calling for me
But I remained there for just as long as I could
Before I peered out to see them searching.

It had been long enough now
That they had almost become frantic,
But surely they knew I would be joking around.
It was typical that I would try to fool someone.
I had been doing it all my life.

Well, I continued to wait anyway
Knowing that sooner or later
I would reveal my grand scheme
And everyone would be angry
And some would laugh and some would yell
And that would be the end of it.

Yet then it all fell silent
And I could no longer hear anyone calling my name.
The day became colder
And the hours became older
And the darkness began to fall
On the dew-covered grass.

I had no idea what was keeping them from finding me
And it was almost as if they had forgotten I was not there.
I peeked out again
And then I saw the lights of the house were on
And shining out into the fogginess
That had descended upon the garden.

It seemed warm in there
But I was hoping they might still come and fetch me.
Then I saw my father there
Placing the last of the bobbles upon the Christmas tree.
He stood back and reckoned upon it.
He smiled and raised his hands.
Then he turned to the others who admired,
And they were happy.

I tried to make myself as comfortable as I could
In my little hole in the tree
But nothing could really mask the discomfort.
The damp had begun to seep into my jeans
And I just stayed hoping
That maybe someday, someone might look for me again.
But they never did;
Yet I always hid.