Black Boot At Midnight Poem by Holly Jamestone

Black Boot At Midnight

The house was quiet as a cat in stocking feet
When I saw the black boot, snow on its tip
Silently dangling just above the ornate andiron
At the opening to the fireplace

My jaw dropped, as did my cup of eggnog
Which my kitty, Iggy, joyously began to lap up
As I moved closer to the brick and the ebony boot
Searching for any sign of life

“Hello? Are you okay? Are you alive? ”
I realized I was whispering and that the snow
On the boot was melting beneath
A bright red crushed velvet pant leg

My words “I’m calling 911 to get help”
Stuck in my throat like one of those dreams
Where you try to scream and nothing comes out
And then you keep dialing the wrong numbers

“Ho-ho, NO, ” the boot replied
“Please do not call anyone
I’m just taking a breather and figured that
This was a perfect place to quietly hide”

“Are you really Santa Claus, ” I cautiously asked?
“It’s okay if you’re a prowler. I’m not afraid, ” I fibbed
“But would you like a cup of cocoa or
A cookie or a spot of tea”?

At that point I heard snoring resonating from
The black boot and the red velvet pant leg
Followed by snorting and yawning and a tired, long sigh
As he cleared his throat and the boot moved

“Hmmm, ” I pondered
“So the reindeer are waiting for you
Up on my roof, cooling their heels – eh,
I mean their hooves”?

The chimney jiggled like a bowlful of jelly
As the black boot replied
“No, my dear. They, too, need a break
From time to time.”

“They are down at the Antler Inn
Sipping eggnog and playing cards
And they’ll pick me up in 20 minutes
So we can sail away in the sleigh”

At that point snoring once again resonated from
The black boot and the red velvet pant leg
That were probably attached to a kind spirit
A generous heart and a cotton candy beard

©2013 All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Christmas
Holly Jamestone

Holly Jamestone

Denver, CO U.S.A.
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