Christmas Scurry Poem by Andrea Smith

The whisping chill of the winter night
Floods through under the city lights
Children laughing
Hoping and praying
That Santa Claus was coming tonight
They stay up late
Listening for sounds
But all they hear is the pitter patter of snow
'Till they hear a crash and a boom
From the top of the roof
With a faint following of a Ho Ho Ho
Did they get up to see
A jaunty fat man
In a big red suit
Carrying a big old bag
Santa Claus they whisper
As they scurry back to bed
Waking up the next night
To find presents under the tree