Christmas poem by Matthew

Twas the night before Christmas

and all in the house,

just one creature was staring,

and it wasn’t a mouse.

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It was me,

and I was sat up in bed,

I couldn’t get to sleep,

with all the thoughts in my head.

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Would Santa be coming?

Would he be alright?

Would he have a safe journey?

Would the presents be right?

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I looked out the window,

and what I saw.

Was it real?

I just wasn’t sure.

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It was a sleigh,

in the dark sky.

It was rocking,

And it was ever so high.

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Sat in the sleigh was a man,

whose beard was white and clear.

The sleigh was being pulled,

by a flock of reindeer.

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The sleigh came lower,

and onto the roof.

If Santa was real,

this would be proof.

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I ran down stairs,

and looked by the living room door.

There he was,

putting gifts on the floor.

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And then he said

“Ho ho ho,

have a nice Christmas!”

And off I go.

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He sped up the chimney,

in a dash,

he jumped on his sleigh,

and was gone in a flash

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I ran upstairs,

and got into bed.

I still got to sleep,

despite all the thoughts in my head. 

This poem was written in 2011 by Matthew Rymell then just aged 11.