By: Nadja Goldberg

Vermillion lips delicately poised with peace
Gleaming green eyes to see through the night
A rosy draped gown made purely of fleece
Well before dawn, she takes off in flight.

Without wings she glides through air
Below a rounded moon and speckled stars;
Behind her drifts long locks of hair
Fiery red like the planet of Mars.

About the size of a sponge
She visits each house on her list
Through the mail-slot she does plunge
Sheltered from chilly night mist.

Flying down the hall or up the stairs
And through the door to the child’s room
Careful not to tug any hairs
As under the pillow she does zoom.

Searching for that jagged tooth
Replacing it with a special gift
To sustain the children through years of youth
As soon as they grip the pillow and lift.



Nadja is a 14-year-old from California.