Category Archives: Metered Poetry

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 ….

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© 2014 John Allen Richter
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Net Dreams

Story book dreams, feathered seams,
glory finds comfort by two’s;
Zeros and ones, petticoat suns,
the best of life to lose……

A talent hidden, love forbidden,
the master ruled her cave.
Come another, a wanton lover,
to free her chains, a slave.

Love chancing, hearts dancing,
admiration cloaked from view.
Her master there, a constant stare
yet her words went ringing through.

What can I say John?
Come what may John?
As the Indian rules this hour?
I feel at bay John…
To spend a day John…
outside his watchful tower…

Words would meet, singing so sweet,
but the two lives would never glance.
Hearts entwined, love inclined,
as the world saw budding romance.

But in the midst of a lover’s twist,
as danger ruled her senses,
She ran away home, to arms of Stockholm,
behind her master’s fences.

And what remains, but sorrowful stains
of words in zeros and ones.
The poems they shared, the love they dared,
– gone.

Poem Form:  Four lines per stanza – known as “quatrains”,  first and third lines have internal rhymes – (…remains,…stains),  second and fourth lines have tail rhymes or “rime couée” – (..senses,…fences).  Near the middle of this particular poem I broke from the form to add a six-line verse, also known as a “sestet.”  The last line of this particular poem intentionally breaks from the mold, rhyme and metre sequence to emphasize the absolute desolation of a lost relationship that ended abruptly.

This poem is about a love affair between two people who never met, but fell in love over the internet and by emailing each other the most beautiful love letters. It ended abruptly when she left to return to her lover.

© 2011 John Richter