One More Hour


One More Hour

If I sat on Father Christmas' lap,
And made a wish, what would I ask?
Not gifts or toys, nor shiny wrap,
But TIME—just one more hour to catch.

I hear the voices, grief-stricken and true,
They long for moments they can't renew,
"One more hour," they softly plead,
To hold their loved ones, to feel their need.

But wishes fade in silent air,
The seasons turn, and life moves there,
So now I guard my silent plea,
No more requests, no more decree.

Some say let Christmas disappear,
End the season, silence the year,
But I keep a quiet hope inside,
That love and memory will abide.

Though time may never grant our cry,
We carry them, until we die,
And cherish each moment, fleeting and few—
A love so deep, forever true.

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