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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

Guess Who?



When the house is quiet

And the residents asleep

I wander round this house alone

And try not to make a peep


I float above the floorboards

So my footsteps do not creak

I whistle in a whisper low

As in each crook I peek


I know not what I’m looking for

But still compelled I roam

Up and down the curving stair

To get to know your home


I pass beside all sleeping forms

How soundly they do snore

I’m not there to disturb their rest

As I flit from door to door


Sometimes I will be the wind

That flutters through the sill

Or trail my fingers through their hair

And bend dreams to my will


The clues to my identity

(For I could be nothing else)

Are as plain as nose upon your face

I’m that minx, Elf on the Shelf!


Enduring fixture in your house

A noisome thing am I

Appearing out of nowhere and

Blind to all passersby


There’s those that don’t believe in me

That deny my phantom ways

Yet here I am, or there I’m not

You’ll search for days and days


A friendly presence that believes

The world could use more smiles

I’m here to spread some Christmas joy

In my sweetly creepy style!

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