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Remember as a child when you were scared to be awake in the night on Xmas Eve? I thought I heard Santa one time, then Mom bent down and kissed my forehead. I'm sure she noticed my tightly squeezed eyes when she moved the blankets off my head.
Listening For Santa
A squeak on the stairs.
Could Santa be here?
Better pull my blankets,
Up to my ears.
He comes down the chimney,
That’s how he gets in.
Santa uses magic,
To make himself thin.
I better keep still,
Can’t make a peep.
He doesn’t leave toys,
Unless you’re asleep.
My door just opened
Someone’s by my bed.
It wasn’t Santa after all,
Cause Mom just kissed my head.
Listening For Santa by Annabel Sheila @FamilyFriendPoems
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Could Santa be here?
Better pull my blankets,
Up to my ears.
He comes down the chimney,
That’s how he gets in.
Santa uses magic,
To make himself thin.
I better keep still,
Can’t make a peep.
He doesn’t leave toys,
Unless you’re asleep.
My door just opened
Someone’s by my bed.
It wasn’t Santa after all,
Cause Mom just kissed my head.
Listening For Santa by Annabel Sheila @FamilyFriendPoems
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