By Georgina Simmonds
The glory of the world comes from heaven above,
With the moon shining bright to light the darkness of the silent night.
Till it comes to daylight and the month of the calendar when Christmas comes round again.
The weather pattern—what I call the blue planet—could open its stores to let the snow falling gently down so I can make a big snowball.
I will roll and roll it till it gets big and I will cut a hole in the middle to hold my presents inside so someone can kick it like a football ball.
It will be something to hold rain, wind and snow.
But who will kick my football ball until all the snow falls?
Will it be the House of Commons or the House of Parliament?
And the small golden acorn will grow into a strong golden oak for all the world to see.
Now my story has come to an end.
Thank you Lord for creating nature that brought life to all creatures big and small, and conceiving the world with many wonders for us to see.