The Night Santa Came

From under the covers,  anxious eyes glowing –
so excited with joy, an eager smile showing –

I could see through the glare of moonlit frost,
brother’s eyes so wide as he turned and tossed.

Though our room had been so far from the tree –
its sweet aroma still came to me.

Heard through the quiet – father and mum
saying something or something, my ears clearly numb.

Father went “arumph! Gaul dabbity doo!”
Mum went “shussssshhhhh! You farbity poo!”

Just then big brother quietly whispered to me –
“What is it, dear Johnny, you’re wishing to see?”

“Why certainly brother only Santa will do –
or perhaps his sleigh and eight reindeer for you….”

“Quiet in there” as the very walls did shake –
Proving that our father was indeed still awake.

Our plan had been hatched to stay up late
and catch Santa come through the fireplace grate.

We thought if we found him this snowy night
we’d give Santa a hug so bold and so tight.

And if we could catch him – we could finally see
If Santa indeed smelled like a chocolate mint tree.

And just to look up and see his fat rosy cheeks –
pinch them for luck and too if they squeaked.

I’d ask him to share his cookies with me,
Which mum so nicely laid under the tree.

We would sit and talk the whole night through,
of elves, and toys, and Mrs. Claus too.

We would dance and laugh and throw presents askew
while brother fed Rudolph and the rest of his crew.

I could sit in his lap and tell stories of old
and he would laugh and laugh and say “Ho Ho Ho!”

And I could tell Santa if my wish could come true
t’would be we could visit each day the year through.

Oh, what wondrous things were done
On the night that Santa did come.

He helped me throw tinsel all over the tree,
Then straightened the Angel as much as could be.

He twinkled his nose and the stockings then flew –
nearer to his bag where they all withdrew –

Chocolates of color, so brown and so white,
Caramels and taffies of such great delight!

And out from the bag came a tiny little elf
who looked surprised when he saw myself.

“Jonas, my friend, what are you doing in there?”
Santa asked, while scratching his white hair.

“I must have fallen asleep during the push,
while we were all working that last minute rush.”

Santa laughed with a roar and so horribly loud,
I feared it would wake Dad and bring him down.

Jonas was laughing and rolling on the ground
the stockings were swirling the ceiling with sound.

Santa twinkled his nose and lit the tree,
The tinsel was waving as though windy.

“Rudolph, my boy, are you warm enough?”
Then a scratch on the roof and a faint “huff, huff.”

Oh, the dear sweet fun we had!
When Santa’s around I’m ever so glad!

Then Santa leaned down to look in my eyes,
“It was good to see you but now I must fly.
And I’ll see you again before much time goes by…
Remember Johnny never to lie,
and always look for me in the sky!”

“But don’t go Santa – we can sing a song” –
When just then came little sister along.

“Wake up, Brother John, Santa’s come and gone.”
realizing just then I’d been asleep all along ….

© 2014 John Allen Richter


About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

5 responses to “The Night Santa Came

  • ManicDdaily

    Very sweet and told with a lot of verve. Thanks, John. k.

  • G.P Williamson

    I love this John! Not only an amazing poem! Yet also finally proved to me I’m not the only one who makes the odd typing error! (posted below. I believe you meant *to see if they squeaked* ) I spent past half hour editing mine and I’ve just noticed two more but have no time to change them until tomorrow! Shhhh don’t tell anyone. They won’t notice.
    pinch them for luck and too if they squeaked

    • johnallenrichter

      Thinks for stooping by P.G… 🙂 (as you can see, spell check doesn’t catch everything…) Actually G.P., “and too” was added intentionally – which had originally been “and also”, indicating a second reason for pinching those lovely fat jowls. This poem had been edited several times after I first posted it, mostly for meter change. Oddly, though, I originally did misspell “Squeaky.” With that said I am in no way claiming to be the perfect editor… I write poetry because my body forces me too. While I have great hopes that all of my past English, grammar and spelling teachers will be proud of what I’ve written, as a realist I know better. My poems are riddled with misspellings and grammatically incorrect verses, some intended, some not. If my children, or any other scoundrels living long enough to see my grave should endeavor to publish them then I should hope they would be edited properly at that time. (Not quite as heavily as Emily Dickinson’s scoundrels did, though! I prefer to rest in peace, not in pieces.)

      • G.P Williamson

        Haha! Well whoooops! Thanks for taking it light heartedly though. I wasn’t attempting to be a grammer nazi and did debate posting at all. Then I figured ‘meh, I’d want to know’. Thanks for explanation. I get it now 🙂 I read your poem to my missus. She loved it! Keep up the great posts!

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