That letter to Santa Claus
The sweetest of hours that we spend hard at work
Are the hard-working hours that we never once shirk.
All our troubles and pains do not count then — because
It’s lovely to write to old Santa Claus.
We wrinkle our brows and scratch on our heads
Long after we all should have been in our beds,
And note after note we tear up, just ’cause
We must do quite our best for old Santa Claus.
How the little lips twist and the tongue sticks ‘way out
As the chubby white hands take each turn about,
And scribble and scribble, quite slow or quite quick,
To finish that letter to merry Saint Nick.
With the stamp so well licked that the gum is all gone,
The little feet patter ‘cross snow-covered lawn,
And a tiny young miss stands on tip-toes, because
She’s mailing that letter to old Santa Claus.