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Ellen Wilkenstanley Poem
Reindeer of eight,
Do not want to be late.
Pulling the sleigh,
Rudolph leads the way.
His nose of red does glow,
As it shines over the cold wintry snow.
Through the air,
They do fly.
As they land on the roofs,
They silence their hoofs.
Flying from house to house,
They are quiet as a mouse.
Children sleep warm and tight,
As the reindeer fly throughout the night.
Finishing their run,
and they are finally all done.
They have reached their goal,
And return to the Northpole.
The reindeer have done their best,
And now it is time to rest.
Copyright © Ellen Wilkenstanley | Year Posted 2011
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