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I live just round the corner and walk past it every day,
But I’ve never seen them build it; it springs up when I’m away,
An empty square to log cabins, stored on a million shelves,
But who exactly builds them up? Is it Santa’s team of elves?
Do they sneak onto the squares at night and build it whilst we doze?
In Albert Square and St Annes too and all down Brazennose,
Do they build them up in seconds, a whole village out of oak,
With Zippie shining merrily up high as Rudolph sings to folk,
A hundred elves all beavering, fixing roofs and walls,
Then filling up the goodies on the Christmas market stalls,
The only thing they don’t need magic for is the market going folk,
But then one day it’s gone away, not even a puff of smoke,
The elves have done their work once more and the markets disappear,
Leaving the merry folk of Manchester full of Christmas cheer.

Copyright©2011 by Phil Martin
All rights reserved.

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