Dear Saint Nick
written by: Emma L Flint
@LiterateElf
Under the tree,
That’s where I’ll be,
Come Christmas morn,
My presents calling me.
I’ll rush down the stairs,
A smile on my face,
I’ll try to stay calm,
But my heart will race.
Santa has been,
Good ol’ Saint Nick,
He gobbled the mince pie,
How is he not sick?
The milk is gone too,
Snowy footprints on the floor,
Yet he never opened the door.
Such magic and wonder,
Brought to life every year,
A joyous holiday,
One I hold dear.
As I tear at paper,
My hands eager for more,
I wonder about Santa,
What did he ask for?
Emma is an emerging UK based poet, who has spent the last six years working as a full time writer. Her work is comprised of both fiction and non-fiction content, with some of her recent work having been published in DIVA Magazine and on MookyChick. Having spent years penning immersive stories across a wide range of genres, Emma decided to explore another avenue of creativity in the form of poetry; her hope is to eventually publish an anthology of her poems.
Latest posts by Emma L Flint (see all)
- Beyond Sleep - March 2, 2021
- Dear Saint Nick - December 19, 2020
- Don’t Let Them In - December 6, 2020
