Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
by the grey wearing ghost, with brown curly hair.
Her name was Annie, and she wandered around,
downstairs in the house, not making a sound.
She sat by the fire, and thought of old days,
of her late boyfriend Mitchell, and his vampire ways.
She thought of his face, and brought tears to her eyes,
How she wished he was here, had not met his demise.
But she knew why he had to, why he was gone,
In the end it would save George's daughter or son.
Annie heard the sound of the stairs starting to creak,
And into the darkness she started to speak.
"Who's there?" she asked "Who's up at this hour?"
"It's me" replied Nina "I've just got out of the shower"
Annie watched with a smile as her house mate sat down,
Pulling over her bump, her pink dressing gown.
Nina brushed her blonde hair from her face with a sigh,
and a few silent moments between friends went by.
"Do you miss him?" asked Nina, already knowing the score.
"Of course" Annie said, "We were better as four."
Nina nodded her head and stared at the ground,
wanting to speak but no words could be found.
"I thought you were coming to bed" a voice made them jump,
as George sat beside Nina and placed a hand on her bump.
He kissed her cheek, and smiled as he said,
"I was waiting for you. It's warm up in bed."
Then a sound from above caused them such a fright,
from on top of the roof in the dark of the night.
And the three best friends all rose to a stand,
huddling together, making sure to hold hands.
But they needn't have worried, for the sound was no Foe,
It was merely a friend, wanting to ease their woe.
And in a flash, from down the chimney appeared,
and man with a smile, and a white bushy beard.
Over his shoulder was a large bag of brown,
and from it he pulled a cute little white gown.
"For the baby" he said, laying it beneath the tree,
as Annie moved a full mug of cold tea.
"You must be Annie" Santa said to the ghost
"You were the one I wanted to see most.
For I know you are missing your deceased other half,
and that's not something that can be healed with a scalf."
"And never wonder what things could have been.
But remember those times when he caused you to grin.
Now I must leave, dear friends, and take flight.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night"
Welcome to this Sinead Keenan fansite, celebrating the work of the beautiful Sinead. 
Lip Service
Crimes of Mancunia
