Looking For Clues

Each St. Nicholas I receive

A gift wrapped book of poetry

A figurine of speculoos

And a note that hints of clues

As to who you may or may not be

But not why it seems you’re stalking me

Written in bold block capitals

Words here and there sometimes misspelled

Clues laid to throw me off the scent

Of what is said and what is meant

Reading between the volume’s sombre lines

I look still for more to find

You know me well and what I I read

But know please now that what I need

Is just to know all will be right

To wake from darkness into light

To be given each day my daily bread

By some kind heart or some wise head

To find a hand to hold or else a kiss

And then perhaps an answer to the clues I missed