It's guessing time at our house; every evening after tea <br />We start guessing what old Santa's going to leave us on our tree. <br />Everyone of us holds secrets that the others-try to steal, <br />And that eyes and lips are plainly having trouble to conceal. <br />And a little lip that quivered just a bit the other night <br />Was a sad and startling warning that I mustn't guess it right. <br /> <br />'Guess what you will get for Christmas!' is the cry that starts the fun. <br />And I answer: 'Give the letter with which the name's begun.' <br />Oh, the eyes that dance around me and the joyous faces there <br />Keep me nightly guessing wildly: 'Is it something I can wear?' <br />I implore them all to tell me in a frantic sort of way <br />And pretend that I am puzzled, just to keep them feeling gay. <br /> <br />Oh, the wise and knowing glances that across the table fly <br />And the winks exchanged with mother, that they think I never spy; <br />Oh, the whispered confidences that are poured into her ear, <br />And the laughter gay that follows when I try my best to hear! <br />Oh, the shouts of glad derision when I bet that it's a cane, <br />And the merry answering chorus: ' No, it's not. Just guess again! ' <br /> <br />It's guessing time at our house, and the fun is running fast, <br />And I wish somehow this contest of delight could always last, <br />For the love that's in their faces and their laughter ringing clear <br />Is their dad's most precious present when the Christmas time is near. <br />And soon as it is over, when the tree is bare and plain, <br />I shall start in looking forward to the time to guess again.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/guessing-time/
