My granddaughter Natalie wrote me of last Christmas morn, when after presents, her hand in marriage
was asked for by Mark, in an old-fashioned and most unusual way, which deserved a poem
It was on the morn of Christmas Day,
such excitement filled the air.
Presents given, with much laughter gay,
and delight at gifts so fair,
Natalie turned, with a pen in hand,
to mark off this special day,
this wonderful day throughout the land,
which at last had come to stay.
Mark then whispered, "Please look on the back,"
and she turned the calendar there,
reading Marks writing, in ink so black,
intended for Santa’s stare.
"Please Santa," she read in disbelief,
"Will she say yes, when she turns,
or give me, such an awful grief,
not knowing, just how my heart burns,"
Natalie turned in a stunned surprise,
and saw him, down there kneeling.
A look of love in those pleading eyes,
and a ring he offered with feeling.
"Will you be my lady wife,
I could never love you less.
So can we share our future life,
Oh please, oh please, say yes!”