15+ Best Christmas Poems For Quilters

Christmas holidays arrived and fun time started.  The best Christmas Poems For Quilters. ‘Twas the week after Christmas and all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even her spouse

The Week After Christmas By Dessie Nichols

‘Twas the week after Christmas and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even her spouse
The quilting frame had replaced the tree by the stair,
In hopes she’d not be disturbed, as she quilted there

Outside the flurries of snow from the sky,
Made not a sound as they floated by.
The needle also made not a sound
As through the quilt it slid up and down.

When out from the kitchen there arose such a clatter;
She flew out of her chair to see what was the matter.
There in his longjohns, stood a sleepy-eyed spouse,
Grumbling, “Why can’t I find something to eat in this house?

A knock on the door gave them both a fright
Who’d be calling at this time of night
They opened the door, and what a surprise!
A very weary-looking Santa stood before their eyes.

“I know it’s past Christmas, and you think I’m out of my mind,
But I’d like one of your quilts, if you’d be so kind.
“You see I’m ashamed,” he said with a pause,
“But I forgot a present for Mrs. Santa Claus.

“Sir, please help me ’cause you must know how I feel,
A woman can make a man feel like a number one heel.”
The lady smiled, and turned with a grin,
Returned with a quilt, and handed it cheerfully to him.

“Here, Dear Santa, is my latest creation.”
And she gave it to him without hesitation.
“the Quilting is good, and the colors quite nice,
“”I want her to enjoy it; there will be no price.”

“Thank you and God Bless. I knew quilters were great!”
“now I must hurry, as the time is quite late”
And they heard him exclaim, as he turned to depart,
“Only a quilter would have such a big heart.


Down to the quilt shop quilters go,
Out comes the MasterCard all aglow.
Out through the checkout with lots of stuff,
All for the quilts and the tools and such.

Who wouldn’t sew.
Go-go-go, who wouldn’t go
Down to the quilt shop
Out through the checkout with lots to snip.

First are the UFO’s that fill the drawers,
So many there that we can’t ignore.
Finish them all, do them one by one.
Finish them all then we’ll have some fun.


Next come the quilts that are in our heads,
All that we’ve planned for all our beds.
One for the master room and one for the guest,
We’ll stitch them all and do our best.


Last we’ll make gifts for all our friends,
Quilts and placemats without end.
Coasters and bookmarks, ornaments – so much!
Wrap them up in ribbons and bows and such.

Stitchers Christmas–Author Unknown

Twas the night before Christmas, and, oh, I was weary.
My stitching unfinished, my eyes getting bleary.
The stockings weren’t finished, the chimney was bare.
And I knew that morning soon would be there.

My children and husband were tucked in their beds,
But visions of backstitches ran through my head.
I’d stitched ornaments and presents and gifts by the ton,
And now, I was finally, almost, almost done.

As I poised my needle for one more backstitch,
I heard something outside that made my hand twitch.
I jumped up from my stitching, and flew to the door,
Pressed my eye to the peephole, tiptoe off the floor.

My stitching forgotten, I peered into the night.
When suddenly, I got a terrible fright.
On my porch appeared Santa, holding his sack.
He knocked softly, and I took a giant step back.

I unlocked the deadbolt, and let Santa in,
He entered and gave a mischievous grin.
“Hope you don’t mind if I come in the door?”
“Coming down the chimney can be quite a chore.”

He said “You’re up late. Still working I see.”
“Do you know how tired you’re going to be?”
“I know, Santa,” I said, with a sigh,
“But I’m still backstitching the stars in the sky,”

“And the fields on that stocking look blobby you know,
I need to backstitch the drifts in the snow.
I’ve been stitching and stitching and stitching, no rest.
I just tried to finish stitching too much, I guess.”

“I know what you mean,” he said with a smile.
“This is my busiest time of the year, by a mile.”
He stooped down by the tree, and he opened his sack,
And began to pull presents out of his pack.

“I’ve got some things here I think you might like,
An oak stitching frame, and a brand new Ott-Light.
A bundle of floss, and a great big mat cutter,”
I smiled and felt my heart go a-flutter.

He put down gifts for us all, then he waved his right hand.
“Go to bed,” he said, glancing at my floor stand.
He gave me a wink, and stepped out the door.
I just stood there a moment, glued to the floor.

After he’d left, I turned back to my chair,
Picked up the stockings, and started to stare.
The backstitching was done! The stars lit the sky!
And on my son’s stocking angels sung on high.

I ran to thank Santa for this final gift,
And watched as his sleigh started to lift.
I heard him exclaim as he pulled out of sight
“Merry stitching to all, and to all a good night!–


The Night Before Christmas By Colin Buchanon

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
The only one sleeping was a Quilter’s dear spouse.
The Log Cabin stockings were almost completed,
“Just a few stitches left,” our sweet quilter repeated.

“Then I can hang them and head off to
finish the pillows I’m making, fulfilling Mom’s wish
For something quilted to put on her couch”,
as she pricked her poor finger,our quilter said,”Ouch!”

When from out in the kitchen there arose such a crashing,
she sprang from her work, and she dropped all her sashing.
Away to the doorway she flew like a plane,
wondering just what was happening and who she would blame.

When what to her wondering eyes should appear,
but Old Mrs. Claus and her bag of quilt-gear…
With her elves bearing gifts, through the kitchen she came,
she directed and pointed and called them by name.

“Now Elna, now Pfaff, now Bernina and VIking,
the Hoffman and Mumm should be just to her liking.
To the sewing room – there, it’s just back of the hall, now dash
away, dash away, dash away all!”

“My Dear,” said The Claus (as she liked to be called),
“There really is no need to worry at all.
Your projects will all be completed this night,
I’m terribly sorry we gave you a fright.”

“Sit down. Have some tea. It’s relaxing, you’ll see.
My friends and I’ve come a long way to help Thee.”
She thought she was dreaming, our dear Quilter did,
In fact she quite feared that she near flipped her lid!

But the flash of the needles and twist of the thread soon gave her to know
she had nothing to dread.
They spoke no more words, but went straight to their sewing.
How the work went so quickly she had no way way of knowing.

The stitches, how fine! The corners, how straight!
This Claus-woman’s talent was awfully great.
They finished the pillows, then started to quilt.
Before they all knew it, the whole thing was built!
Now old Mrs. Claus, she knew quilters real well,
and she knew they’d need help on this night most of all
So she said to our quilter, “Just move over dear,
I’ve brought my own needle. We’ll get done, never fear.

I told dear old Santa about what quilters do.
How they plan all these projects but have other work too.
So he taught me his magic for doing things fast.
There, that pillows done. Now this is the last.

They tidied their thread snips, and picked up the scraps
and chased our dear quilter’s six cats from their laps.
As they scurried away with their thimbles still gleaming
dear Mrs. Claus paused, her cap ribbons streaming.

“Merry Christmas, my dear, now just have a ball!”

Author Unknown – if YOU know, please tell us so we can properly attribute this poem

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way

Now for some Aussie Jingle Bells!!!
Dashing through the bush, in a rusty Holden ute,
Kicking up the dust, Esky in the boot.
Kelpie by my side, Singing Christmas songs,
It’s summer time and I am in my singlet, shorts and thongs!!!

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way,
Christmas in Australia on a scorching summer’s day. Hey!!
Jingle bells, jingle bells. Christmas time is beaut
Oh what fun it is to ride in a rusty Holden ute!!

Engine’s getting hot, we dodge the kangaroos,
The swaggie climbs aboard, he is welcome too.
All the family’s there, sitting by the pool,
Christmas day the Aussie way, by the Bar-b-q!!!

Come the afternoon, Grandpa has a doze,
The kids and Uncle Bruce are swimming in their clothes.
The time comes round to go, we take a family snap,
Pack the car and all shoot through before the washing up :-}

Merry Christmas my friends

Merry Christmas my friends
If I were old Santa, you know what I’d do
I’d dump silly gifts that are given to you
And deliver some things just inside your front door
Things you have lost, but treasured before.

I’d give you back all your maidenly vigor,
and to go along with it, a neat tiny figure.
Then restore the old color that once graced your hair
before rinses and bleaches took residence there.

I’d bring back the shape with which you were gifted
so things now suspended need not be uplifted.
I’d draw in your tummy and smooth down your back
Till you’d be a dream in those tight fitting slacks.

I’d remove all your wrinkles and leave only one chin
So you wouldn’t spend hours rubbing grease on your skin
You’d never have flashes or queer dizzy spells
and you wouldn’t hear noises like ringing of bells.

No sore aching feet and no corns on your toes
no searching for spectacles when they’re right on your nose.
Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny
from a doctor who thinks you’re a nervous old granny.

You’d never have a headache, so no pills would you take.
and no heating pad needed since your muscles won’t ache.
Yes, if I were Santa, you’d never look stupid
You’d be a cute little chick with the romance of a cupid.

I’d give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle
and the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle.
But alas! I’m not Santa. I’m simply just me
the matronest of matrons you ever did see.

I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I’ve got
But I’m due at my doctor’s for an estrogen shot.
Even though we’ve grown older this wish is sincere
Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year!