Children Look for Santa Claus` House

Children go looking for Santa Claus` house,
where can it be? where can it be?
It is located somewhere deep in the woods;
there’s a house with elves wearing red hoods. 
There are lots of them decorating bushes and trees,
silver, gold, and red tinsel strung around for all to see.

Ms. Claus is rushing around decorating Santa’s sleigh,
holly, red berries, and bows adorn its sides for the day.
Santa and the reindeer are ready for their awaited flight,
carrying toys and goodies until late into the night.
The reindeer’s noses are glowing like a bright red,
Santa will sit high in the seat with reins in his hands.

We run to the windows to peek in to see Santa doing tasks,
fingers stitching, hands hammering, making sure they last. 
His cheeks are red like they’re cold, a smile on his face looks bold,
a long white beard covers his face as he bends his belly folds.
His feet look too small for his weight and big boned frame,
it makes us wonder how he won his name and fame.

Santa is working, sweating, and wiping his sopping brow,
dogs lie in a corner and sometimes they’ll bark and growl.
Elves are wrapping and boxing all sorts of toy and things,
there is a long line of angels to wrap having delicate wings. 
There are baby dolls grinning and reaching for us,
filling our hearts and souls with joy until they want to burst.

We hide to watch as Santa and his reindeer take to the air,
wanting to see the glitter, glamour, and sorted fan-fare.
Children are hiding behind trees and bushes from afar,
hope Santa and the reindeer won’t work too hard and get tired.
All of a sudden Santa Climbs aboard his amazing sleigh,
he yells orders to the reindeer hoping they’ll mind and obey.

It’s a sight us children will never forget as Santa soars in the sky,
there wasn’t a single one of us who didn’t shed tears and cry.
Santa banked his sleigh like he knew we were watching,
Ms. Claus ran to the door wiping off what she’d been cooking.
It’ll be a blessed Christmas for every one of us
as we jump up and down until we might just burst.

Sole writer of this poem is Barbara Kasey Smith – Copyright 2012 – Use with permission ony.