Bulbs on Blue Spruce Boughs

The children awake from their slumber,
And rise from their beds.
They rub the sleep from their eyes,
And shake the sugar-plums from their heads.

They scurry towards the living-room,
To see the festive lights.
Glowing bulbs on blue spruce boughs,
Lighting up the wintry night.

The stockings hang from the mantle place,
Stuffed with sweets and more.
Their eyes are glowing with excitement,
As their jaws nearly hit the floor.

"Mommy! Daddy! Come quick! He was here!"
Their voices chime in time.
The cheer in those sweet little voices,
Make three a.m. seem just fine.

"Which one should I open first?"
They can barely contain themselves,
As they gaze at the brightly wrapped gifts,
Prepared by Santa's elves.

Big boxes, small boxes,
Some with ribbons,
Some with bows.
Gift tags from Santa,
Mom and Dad,
And more.

What will they get,
What sweet surprises will there be.
They know not yet whats wrapped up under those blue spruce boughs,
But soon enought they'll see.

Little Taylor will be a sailor,
Sailing the seven seas,
Aboard the brand new lego ship,
He'll build with dad and me.

And little Emma,
She'll play forever,
As she pretends that shes a queen.
Sipping from her new tea set,
Just as sweet as can be.

And Mom and Dad will sit on back,
Enjoying their children's faces all a-glow.
Sharing a stare over their coffee cups,
Remember when they still did not know.