Free...Yes Free... Christmas Poems for Kids

This is the first of our Christmas Poems for Kids

Said Santa Claus one winter’s night,
"I really think it’s only right,
That gifts should have a little say,
‘Bout where they’ll be on Christmas Day."

So then and there he called the toys,
Intended for good girls and boys,,
And when they’d settled down to hear,,
He made his plan for them quite clear.,

These were his words:"Soon now," said he,,
"You’ll all be speeding off with me,
To bring the Christmas joy and cheer,
To little ones both far and near.,

"Here’s my idea, it seems but fair,
That you should each one have a share,
In choosing homes where you will stay,
On and after Christmas Day.,

Now the next weeks before we go,
Over the miles of glistening snow,
Find out the tots that you like best,
And think much nicer than the rest.",

The toys called out"Hurrah! Hurrah!,
What fun to live always and play,
With folks we choose – they’ll surely be,
Selected very carefully.",

So, children dear,when you do see,
Your toys in socks or on a tree,,
You’ll know in all the world ‘twas you,
They wanted to be given to.,

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A Russian felt water hit his nose
"Goodness me, upon my life...
It's started raining,"
He said to his wife.

Said she, also feeling a drop
"Rain? oh no, no no
What's falling down, dear
Feels more like snow

Comrade Rudolph intervened
"Officially it's raining" said he
The wife wasn't convinced
"It still feels like snow to me"

But her husband was now certain
And he said to her "look here
You heard what he said, and afterall
Rudolph the Red knows rain, dear"

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What do reindeer have that no other animals have ?
Baby reindeer !
What did Adam say on the day before Christmas ?
It's Christmas, Eve !.....see?
What's in December and no other month ?
It's the letter "D" !

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Who delivers cat's Christmas presents ?
Santa Claws !
Who delivers elephants' Christmas presents?
Elephanta Claus !
Who delivers baby shark's Christmas presents?
Santa Jaws
Who delivers the dog's Christmas presents
Santa Paws

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Twinkle Twinkle chocolate bar
Santa drives a rusty car
Press the starter
Press the choke
Off he goes in a cloud of smoke !

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A parent's night before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse.
Instructions were studied and we were inspired,
In hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."

The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds,
While Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
A kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot!
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!

We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat....
Let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
If we can't get it right, it goes in the basement!

When what to my worrying eyes should appear,
But 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,
With each part numbered and every slot named,
So if we failed, only we could be blamed.

More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
All over the carpet they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!

Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
That all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact

To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
With "assembly required" till morning's first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
Till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.

The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin
Before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest,
We fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.

But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,
And not have to run to the store for a thing!

We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
For the perfect, most perfect, Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland and sweet repose I gratefully went,
Though I suppose there's something to say for those self-
deluded...I'd forgotten that batteries are never included!

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Make out your Chopin Liszt early before Debussy season, when you have time to check out Verdi good bargains are, can still get gifts Faure good price, not have to Handel large crowds and have time to give Bach things you decide you don't want.

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Whereas, on an occasion immediately preceding the Nativity festival,throughout a dwelling unit, quiet descended, in which could be heard no disturbance, not even the sound emitted by a diminutive rodent related to, and in form resembling, a rat; and

Whereas, the offspring of the occupants had affixed their tubular, closely knit coverings for the nether limbs to the flue of the fireplace in expectation that a personage known as St.Nicholas would arrive; and

Whereas, said offspring had become somnolent, and were entertaining re: saccharine-flavored fruit; and

Whereas, the adult male of the family, et ux, attired in proper headgear, had also become quiescent in anticipation of nocturnal inertia; and

Whereas, a distraction on the snowy acreage outside aroused the owner to investigate; and

Whereas, he perceived in a most unbelieving manner a vehicle propelled by eight domesticated quadrupeds of a species found in arctic regions; and

Whereas, a most odd rotund gentleman was entreating the aforesaid animals by their appellations, as follows:

"Your immediate co-operation is requested. Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixen; and collective action by you will be much appreciated, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen"; and

Whereas, subsequent to the above, there occurred a swift descent to the hearth by the aforementioned gentleman, where he proceeded to deposit gratuities in the aforementioned tubular coverings.

Now, therefore, be ye advised: that upon completion of these acts, and upon his return to his original point of departure, he proclaimed a felicitation of the type prevalent and suitable to these occasions, i.e.:

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The first day after ChristmasMy true love and I had a fightAnd so I chopped the pear tree downAnd burnt it, just for spite

Then with a single cartridgeI shot that blasted partridge

My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.

The second day after ChristmasI pulled on the old rubber glovesAnd very gently wrung the necksOf both the turtle doves

My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.

On the third day after ChristmasMy mother caught the croupI had to use the three French hensTo make some chicken soup

The four calling birds were a big mistake For their language was obsceneThe five golden rings were completely fake and turned my fingers green.

The sixth day after ChristmasThe six laying geese wouldn't laySo I sent the whole darn gaggle to theA.S.P.C.A.

My true love, my true love, my true love gave to me.

On the seventh day, what a mess I found The seven swans-a-swimming all had drowned.

The eighth day after ChristmasBefore they could suspectI bundled up theEight maids-a-milkingNine ladies dancingTen lords-a-leapingEleven pipers pipingTwelve drummers drummingAnd sent them back collect

I wrote my true love"We are through, love!"And I said in so many words"Furthermore your Christmas gifts were for the Birds!"

Four calling birds,Three French hens,Two turtle dovesAnd a partridge in a pear tree!"

Doorbell rings, I'm not list'nin',From my mouth, drool is glist'nin',I'm happy -- althoughMy boss let me go --Happily addicted to the Web.All night long, I sit clicking,Unaware time is ticking,There's beard on my cheek,Same clothes for a week,Happily addicted to the Web!

Friends come by; they shake me, Saying, "Yo, man!Don't you know tonight's the senior prom?"With a listless shrug, I mutter "No, man;I just discovered laugh-a-lot-dot-com!"I don't phone, don't send faxes,Don't go out, don't pay taxes,Who cares if somedayThey drag me away?I'm happily addicted to the Web!

Happ-ilyyyyy, ad-dict-eeeed to the Weeeeeb!!! (Yeah!)

Every year Grandma gets a tin of talcum powder.She always says, ‘Ah my favourite!’Even before she opens the wrappingGrandpa always says, ‘Well, I know what’s in here.Its two pairs of socks. Just what I wanted!’

This year, Aunti Vi had an umbrella in an umbrella-shaped parcel,I mean, it looked just like an umbrella.And, before Aunti Vi pulled the paper off,She said to Mum, ‘It will match that new coat of mine.’

As for Mum and Dad, they just sat there and said,'We’ve given each other a joint present this yearIt’s a digital clock radio for our bedroom.’Do you know, they didn’t even bother to wrap it up and put it under the tree!

At the end, when everything had been given out,Mum said, ‘We mustn’t forget the gift-vouchers from Debbie and Jim. We sent them a cheque for the same amount.We always do.’I call that a bit unimaginative, don’t you?

Maybe, when you come to think about it,Grown-ups need Father Christmas far more than children do.

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Queen Ivy and King HollyWait at the door to enterLord of the dark hills, the fir treeReigns in the Garden CentreAnd the changeling MistletoeCome into the houseWhoever you are.

Dangerous padded parcelsA red man’s chancy load,With riddled cores of crackersWatch for their hour to explodeAnd the changeling MistletoeCome into the houseWhoever you are.

Black heart of the pudding,Stuffed heart of the bird,Green hearts of the brussels sproutsSignal the holy wordOf ancestral MistletoeCome into this houseWhoever you are

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JosephTake heart, the journey’s ended:
I see the twinkling light
Where we shall be befriended
On this the night of nights.

Mary Now praise the Lord that led us
So safe into the town,
Where men will feed and bed us,
And I can lay me down.

Joseph And how then shall we praise him?
Alas, my heart is sore
That we no gifts can raise him,
We are so very poor

Mary We have as much as any
That on earth do live,
Although we have no penny,
We have ourselves to give.

Joseph Look yonder, wife, look yonder!
A hostelry I see,
Where travellers that wander
Will very welcome be.

Mary The house is tall and stately,
The door stands open thus;
Yet husband, I fear greatly
That inn is not for us.

Joseph God save you, gentle master!
Your littlest room indeed
With plainest walls of plaster
Tonight will serve our need.

Host For lordlings and for ladies
I’ve lodgings and to spare; For you and yonder maid is
No closet anywhere.

Joseph Take heart, take heart, sweet Mary,
Another inn I spy,
Whose host will not be chary
To let us easy lie.

Mary O aid me, I am ailing,
My strength is nearly gone;
I feel my limbs are failing,
And yet we must go on.

Joseph God save you, Hostess, kindly!
I pray you, house my wife,
Who bears beside me blindly
The burden of her life.

Hostess My guests are rich men’s daughters,
And sons, I’d have you know!
Seek out the poorer quarters,
Where ragged people go.

Joseph Good sir, my wife’s in labour,
Some corner let us keep.

Host Not I: knock up my neighbour,
And as for me, I’ll sleep.

Mary In all the lighted city
Where rich men welcome win,
Will not one house for pity
Take two poor strangers in?

Joseph Good woman, I implore you,
Afford my wife a bed.

Hostess Nay, nay, I’ve nothing for you
Except the cattle shed.

Mary Then gladly in the manger
Our bodies we will house
Since men tonight are stranger
Than asses are and cows.

Joseph Take heart, take heart, sweet Mary,
The cattle are our friends,
Lie down, lie down, sweet Mary,
For here our journey ends.

Mary Now praise the Lord that found me
This shelter in the town,
Where I with friends around me
May lay my burden down.

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Into the basinput the plums,Stir-about, stir-about,stir-about!

Next the goodwhite flour comes,Stir-about, stir-about,stir about!

Sugar and peeland eggs and spice,Stir-about, stir-about,stir-about!

Mix them and fix themand cook them twice,Stir-about, stir-about,stir-about!

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Now that the time has come whereinOur Saviour Christ was born,The larder’s full of beef and pork,The granary’s full of corn,As God hath plenty to thee sent,Take comfort of thy labours,And let it never thee repentTo feed thy needy neighbours.

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Tis the week before Christmas and every nightAs soon as the children are snuggled up tightAnd have sleepily murmured their wishes and prayers,Such fun as goes on in the parlour downstairs!For Father, Big Brother, and Grandfather too,Start in with great vigour their youth to renew.The Grown-ups are having great fun - all is well;And they play till it's long past their hour for bed.

They try to solve puzzles and each one enjoysThe magical thrill of mechanical toys,Even Mother must play with a doll that can talk,And if you assist it, it's able to walk.It's really no matter if paint may be scratched,Or a cogwheel, a nut, or a bolt gets detached;The grown-ups are having great fun - all is well;The children don't know it, and Santa won't tell.

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HE came all so stillWhere His mother was,As dew in AprilThat falleth on the grass.

He came all so stillTo His mother's bower,As dew in AprilThat falleth on the flower.

He came all so stillWhere His mother lay,As dew in AprilThat falleth on the spray.

Mother and maidenWas never none but she;Well may such a ladyGod's mother be.

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AS Joseph was a walkingHe heard an angel sing:"This night shall be bornOur heavenly king.

"He neither shall be bornIn housen nor in hall,Nor in the place of Paradise,But in an ox's stall.

"He neither shall be clothedIn purple nor in pall,But all in fair linen,As were babies all.

"He neither shall be rockedIn silver nor in gold,But in a wooden cradle,That rocks on the mould.

"He neither shall be christenedIn white wine nor red,But with fair spring water,With which we were christened."

Then Mary took her young son,And set him on her knee:"I pray thee now, dear child,Tell how this world shall be."

"O I shall be as dead, mother,As the stones in the wall;O the stones in the street, mother,Shall mourn for me all.

"And upon a WednesdayMy vow I will make,And upon Good FridayMy death I will take.

"Upon Easter-day, mother,My rising shall be;O the sun and the moonShall uprise with me.

"The people shall rejoice,And the birds they shall sing,To see the uprisingOf the heavenly king."

--TRADITIONAL

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THE holly and the ivy,Now are both well grown.Of all the trees that are in the woodThe holly bears the crown.

The holly bears a blossomAs white as the lily flower,And Mary bore sweet Jesus ChristTo be our sweet Saviour.

The holly bears a berryAs red as any blood,And Mary bore sweet Jesus ChristTo do poor sinners good.

The holly bears a prickleAs sharp as any thorn,And Mary bore sweet Jesus ChristOn Christmas Day in the morn.

The holly bears a barkAs bitter as any gall,And Mary bore sweet Jesus ChristFor to redeem us all.

The holly and the ivyNow are both well grown,Of all the trees that are in the woodThe holly bears the crown.

--TRADITIONAL

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A good time is coming, I wish it were here,The very best time in the whole of the year;I'm counting each day on my fingers and thumbs --the weeks that must pass before Santa Claus comes.

Then when the first snowflakes begin to come down,And the wind whistles sharp and the branches are brown,I'll not mind the cold, though my fingers it numbs,For it brings the time nearer when Santa Claus comes.

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Christmas time for boys and girlsIs a happy day,For we go to grandmamma'sAnd eat and sing and play.

Grandma does not say to us—"Stop that horrid noise,"'Cause she understands we can't,When we're "only boys."

And she lets the girls play house,In the garret old,And when they strew things around,Grandma doesn't scold.

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Magic Reindeer fly on high,when Christmas spirit fills the sky.Flying o'er the window sills,with every Christmas wish that's filled.Yes, Santa calls his prancing deer -on Christmas Eve of every year.And then, they fly unto his sleighand in an instant they are up, up and away!

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It's the day before ChristmasAnd all through the houseThe puppies are squeakingAn old rubber mouse.

The wreath which had merrilyHung on the doorIs scattered in piecesAll over the floor.

The stockings that hungIn a neat little rowNow boast a hole inEach one of the toes.

The tree was subjectedTo bright-eyed whims,And now, although splendid,It's missing some limbs.

I catch them and hold them."Be good", I insist.They lick me, then run offTo see what they've missed.

And now as I watch themThe thought comes to me,That their's is the spiritThat Christmas should be.

Should children and puppiesYet show us the way,And teach us the joyThat should come with this day?

Could they bring the messageThat's written above,And tell us that, most of allChristmas is love.

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T'was a Computer ChristmasAuthor Unknown

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the shop,The computers were whirring; they never do stop.The power was on and the temperature right,In hopes that the input would feed back that night.

The system was ready, the program was coded,And memory drums had been carefully loaded;While adding a Christmasy glow to the scene,The lights on the console, flashed red, white and green.

When out in the hall there arose such a clatter,The programmer ran to see what was the matter.Away to the hallway he flew like a flash,Forgetting his key in his curious dash.He stood in the hallway and looked all about,When the door slammed behind him, and he was locked out.

Then, in the computer room what should appear,But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer;And a little old man, who with scarcely a pause,Chuckled: "My name is Santa...the last name is Claus."

The computer was startled, confused by the name,Then it buzzed as it heard the old fellow exclaim:"This is Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,And Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen."

With all these odd names, it was puzzled anew;It hummed and it clanked, and a main circuit blew.It searched in its memory core, trying to "think";Then the multi-line printer went out on the blink.

Unable to do its electronic job,It said in a voice that was almost a sob:"Your eyes - how they twinkle - your dimples so merry,Your cheeks so like roses, your nose like a cherry,

Your smile - all these things, I've been programmed to know,And at data-recall, I am more than so-so;But your name and your address (computers can't lie),Are things that I just cannot identify.

You've a jolly old face and a little round belly,That shakes when you laugh like a bowlful of jelly;My scanners can see you, but still I insist,Since you're not in my program, you cannot exist!"

Old Santa just chuckled a merry "ho, ho",And sat down to type out a quick word or so.The keyboard clack-clattered, its sound sharp and clean,As Santa fed this "data" to the machine:

"Kids everywhere know me; I come every year;The presents I bring add to everyone's cheer;But you won't get anything - that's plain to see;Too bad your programmers forgot about me."

Then he faced the machine and said with a shrug,"Merry Christmas to All," as he pulled out its plug

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Christmas Poems for Kids