Creative Writings Poem

Magic Hour

In the days of youth, so innocent and bright,

When Santa Claus was real, with his magical flight.

I’d return to those moments, oh, how they’d amaze,

When my family was whole, in a warm, loving gaze.


In the frosty December, with snow on the ground,

I’d listen for sleigh bells, their jingling sound.

Believing in legends, like Santa’s great lore,

In a world full of wonder, where dreams could explore.


I’d visit that time when worries were few,

When laughter and joy were the things that I knew.

Innocence like a treasure, held in my hand,

As I danced with the legends, in a magical land.


The world was a canvas, and I held the brush,

Painting my dreams, in a boundless rush.

Oh, how I’d return to that innocent place,

Where legends and magic adorned every space.


To revisit those moments, where love was the key,

To unlock the magic that still lives within me.

For in legends and stories, we find our true grace,

In the innocence of childhood, in that sacred place.


Author: Maria Marcelia Angelica S/204214143

Editor: Desca Geovani Kristi, Ruth Tirza Arina (QC)

Illustrator: Kenar Syalaisha Kanayana


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