Christmas Poem

Poem About Child Waiting For Santa

Remember as a child when you were scared to be awake in the night on Christmas 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.

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A falling sound in the chimney. Could it be Old St. Nick? Better pull my covers and go to sleep.

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Listening For Santa

©

Published: December 2008

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.

more by Annabel Sheila

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Has this poem touched you? Share your story!
  • Allyson Cheyenne Jordan by Allyson Cheyenne Jordan
  • 2 years ago

A falling sound in the chimney. Could it be Old St. Nick? Better pull my covers and go to sleep.

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