Dear Saint Nick, a poem written by Emma L Flint at

Dear Saint Nick

Dear Saint Nick

written by: Emma L Flint



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?

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