I was in my daughter's room the other night and realized it was, once again, a major mess. With Christmas around the corner, I found myself wondering what would happen if Santa Claus decided to drop in on her and realized, if he entered her room in the dark, he probably wouldn't be able to get out. That realization inspired me to write this poem.
The Night Santa Got Trapped (A Poem)
A fun Christmas poem that drew inspiration from my daughter's messy room.
He came in through the chimney,
As he does every Christmas Eve.
He carried a bag over his shoulder
With more present in it than you could believe.
Santa was delivering his gifts
For Violet and Rose.
And, as he entered their living room
He smiled as the smell of fresh cookies and milk entered his nose.
His joyful spirit,
And the goodwill he felt,
Soon turned into surprised despair
From the pain that filled his foot with a jolt.
Who would have known
With his boots so thick
A single building block left on the floor
Would still hurt like heck?
As his eyes filled up with tears,
He tried not to shout out loud.
There was a family sleeping nearby
And loud noises simply were not allowed.
As he hopped around though
Santa slipped on a toy car and crashed into the tree.
He then fell to the floor with a thud
And skinned up his knee.
He sat there stunned,
Hoping he didn't wake the girls from their winter nap.
And, as he scanned the dark room
He realized he was trapped.
Various toys were scattered
And littered the floor.
In the distance, he could even see
A pile of dolls by the front door.
The girls must have spent their day playing
And left everything behind.
As a result
The front room was literally mined.
Santa sat staring
At the big mess.
And the thought of crossing the room
Left him breathless.
The room was dark
And he dreaded trying to walk through the toys.
But, at the same time, he knew he needed to get moving.
He still needed to see many other girls and boys.
Reluctantly, he stood
And carefully navigated toward the kitchen
He was hobbled from his fall
And his scraped-up knee was itchin'.
Santa saw the cookies on the kitchen table
And limped hurriedly toward the treats.
He didn't even stop for a moment
When he heard the girls' crayons crunching under his feet.
He drank the milk and ate the cookies
Then helped himself to one more.
Finally, realizing the chimney would be too much trouble
Headed out the back door.
The next morning
When the girls awoke.
They found two presents by the kitchen table
Along with a handwritten note.
"Merry Christmas to you
And a Happy New Year.
I hope the next few months
Bring you plenty of cheer.
Santa loves you very much
I just wanted you to know.
But, the state of that floor, little girls,
Honestly dealt me a blow.
So I chose to leave you each one gift this year.
Violet, I gave you a dust pan. Rose, you got a broom.
If you would like me to bring you toys next Christmas Eve
Please use these to clean that room."
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