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Narrative Christmas Poems | Narrative Poems About Christmas

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Lottery Winner helps Homeless

 
 As I walked into the banquet hall of the 
 Goodman’s Inn, the first thing that stood
 out to me were the eyes of the people. I
 felt as though I could actually see hope. Eyes 
 seemed to sparkle and everyone in the hall
 sat talking to the others sitting around them
 as they waited for the main course of the evening. 
 To understand this report we need to go back just 
 over a year ago when Lindsey Long won the 50 
 million dollar lottery. Apparently the multimillionaire 
 booked the Goodman’s Inn for December 24th through 
 to January 2nd of this year solely to house the homeless 
 over the Christmas holidays. Miss Long walked through 
 the streets herself over the last week inviting the 
 unfortunate homeless to come to the motel for these      
 festivities. Lindsey Long has not only provided the rooms 
 for this week, she also has clothed them with new 
 wardrobes and warm winter clothing and accessories.
 Now as the people sat around the table they were
 told Miss Long had an announcement. We all waited 
 to hear what this amazing lady had to say
 and excitement filled the room. When this 
 beautiful young woman began to talk there
 wasn’t one dry eye in the building. She told them 
 how she was not going to just send them back
 on the street next week but how she had
 built a new centre that would have sleeping
 facilities and showers to accommodate all
 of them. This new facility will be serving 
 three meals a day which will be prepared solely 
 from themselves on a voluntary bases. 
 The feeling in the Inn that night was pure joy
 and as the people realized the impact of this
 wonderful news, they all broke out singing
 It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. This is 
 Rhonda Reeds reporting for 
 The Good Newspaper.
 Merry Christmas everyone.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.12.2014
Sponsor Mystic Rose
The Good Newspaper 
1st


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Christmas Delivery

As December winds swirled the snow in drifts outside
   Lisa covered Mama, held her hand as she cried
“It’s my last Christmas, I know it in my heart, dear
   Send my prayers to God; deliver them with my tears”

“Hush, Mama, you can’t die; Tommy needs you so
   And his tour of duty still has six months to go”
Mama fell asleep, Lisa bowed her head in prayer
   Adding her own tears, she asked that Tommy be there

“Please let my brother see Mama just one more time
   When her eyes open, may it be her son she finds”
Tears fell on the floor as Lisa kept vigil
   Beside her cancer-stricken mother so fragile

Awakening to see Tommy standing nearby
   In uniform he appeared; Lisa exhaled a sigh
“God sent you home, I knew He would, our pleas were heard”
   Tommy stroked his sister’s hair, saying not one word

‘Twas then Lisa saw Mama standing behind him
   Aglow in heaven’s light were her mother and twin
“How blessed we’ll be – together on this Christmas Day!”
   Lisa exclaimed, just before they faded away

Confused, she saw her ashen mom so still in bed
   ‘Neath the door a telegram, Tommy too was dead
And though there were tears in Lisa’s blue eyes so bright
   Her loved ones would spend Christmas together in God’s sight

A smile came as candles flaming in the window grew
Lisa realized one Christmas she’d be with them too



*Rhyming narrative for Paula Swanson’s “Tear” contest


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The Christmas Haunting

The old man had always had an unnatural fondness 
for the animal but could never seem to bond with human easily, 
with the exception of a special, dear grandmother. His mind 
wandered back to his childhood, the Christmas eve of 1958 about 
a special chore that he was required to do of his parents…….

“Being”
To be or not to be
One two three,
Five more to go…
The eight year old counted the puppies his female Border collie 
had given birth to only three days earlier. The words of his parents 
echoed in his ears, “We can’t have so many dogs around the house, 
we can’t feed them all. You will have to dispose of them, 
she is your dog, your responsibility.”  The lad wiped the tears from 
his eyes, as he prepared reluctantly to smash another head against
a large stone which he had selected. “Smash!” not a whimper. 
He had become proficient at this chore.

 “Being”
To be or not to be
One two three four, 
four more to go. 
The remaining puppies snuggled together for warmth in the cold
December breeze. I can’t do this his conscience screamed as his 
young mind reasoned, “You have to, mom said, and dad will be home 
in the evening. You will get a licking such as you have never gotten before.”  “Smash!” not a whimper. The blood trickled down his finger tips.

“Being” 
To be or not to be, 
One, two, three, four, five, 
Three more to go, He looked at the huge stone, “The killing stone” he 
thought as he prepared to finish all three of the remaining puppies 
in one swift moment if possible. “Smash! Smash! Smash!” It was over 
he gave a sigh of relief as he gathered the tiny, still bodies into a small 
shoe box that was to be the coffin of burial. He quickly buried the box 
with the puppies’ corpses inside. He knew this was one chore on Christmas 
eve day that would haunt him for many days perhaps years to come.

In Honor of Carol Brown
And Contest


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LUNCH BOX

LUNCH BOX

The sandwich was probably only two days old
School had let out for Christmas vacation on the 23rd
And now    on Christmas Eve    Sam had found it -        
     lunchbox and all -  in an alley behind Clarke’s Super
The kid had taken a couple of bites of the apple – now
     gone brown- but left the roast beef sandwich whole
“Too damn much mayo!” Sam frowned
“But boy am I hungry!”

Licorice    the cat – so named by the neighborhood kids –
     was hungry too    and let Sam know it with his most
     plaintiff cry
Sam was street-wise    an old cardboard box dweller who
     had tenanted many boxes   many alleys    in his time
Yet    this was no “Hello puss    whose puss are you?”
     animal summons for attention
The yowl had a bone-rattle desperation Sam hadn’t heard
     before

Licorice blended with the night
But stood out even against the gloom
She was pressed against an empty oil barrel    back arched
     on the tips of her paws    so almost skeletal
Sam couldn’t help but sigh
It was Christmas Eve    and despite the location – a forlorn
     back alley – a string of lights (from somewhere) were
     blinking
On
Off
On
Off
On
Off
On
The red-green-gold shown against Licorice’s satin fur
Charmed the (already charmed) night
Charmed Sam the Box Man
“Well I’ll be damned!” he gulped
Then threw half the sandwich to the starving kitty
“Merry Christmas old beggar.” Sam smiled

  



                      
 
 


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A Christmas Conversation

Daddy, were you alive when Jesus was born?

No honey, he was born a long time ago, over 2000 years ago.

Where was he born Daddy?

In Bethlehem, a small town in the desert in a manger,

Whats a manger Daddy?

It's a place where they kept animals to feed them.

You see when Jesus was born the Inn was full, so 
they had to get Mary to a warm place to give birth to Jesus.
that was the only place they could go.

Daddy who is Jesus' Daddy?

God is his Father honey?

But who is Joseph?

The Chosen Father, who God chose to raise him, Mary's Husband

I don't understand Daddy!

God wanted a son, he could not have a son without Mary and Joseph's
help. God asked them both if they would help him, without even thinking
they said yes. God gave to them a great gift, God gave them Jesus.

At that moment God gave us all a great gift, He gave us the Son of Man.

The Son of Man Daddy?

Yes honey, you see God is not Man, not one you can touch, Jesus
was, he healed people who were sick, He showed people how to love God 
and how God loves them. There is one more important thing
I want to tell you honey.

What's that Daddy? Jesus did a coupla more things I think are 
important, there are many of course but two I like.

Go on Daddy!

Jesus taught us how to love without conditions, like the way I love you 
and you love me and your Mom and Brother. But how to love everybody
like that.  The most important thing is, is that he died because we humans
broke God's laws, which means we sinned. He died so God would
forgive us.


Wow Jesus really did love us didn't he Daddy...?

Yes he did baby, and the really good thing is he still does and always will.

Come on it's time for bed!

Not until I say my prayers Daddy!

How bout we Pray together tonight?

I'd like that Daddy!

So would I baby, so would I .

Jump up on my back and I'll give you piggy back ride!

I love you Daddy!

I love you too baby, I love you too.........





My Christmas wish is you all have Conversations like this with your 
kids. Trust me they bring tears of joy!

May God Bless you all this Christmas Season as he has Blessed me.

    From Mary, Josh, Shay and myself  MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR


                             With Love.....Taz


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Christmas Memories

We were poor, but my brother and I didn’t know it.
Before Christmas my dad would take us to find just the right scraggly 
fir tree..a wonderful afternoon tramping around in the woods.

Old and worn decorations..we were delighted to open the crate
and unpack them; it was like seeing old and beloved friends again.
The red velvet car was my favorite..  his a bedraggled Santa sled.

We always had a present or two..but the most exciting gifts were
in our stockings. The stockings were my dad’s work socks..washed
and pressed for the occasion. They hung with pride, beautiful to us.

One year I got a fishing pole in my stocking. It was stuck through
a hole in the heel. I thought that Santa was the cleverest
of men. Imagine..using that hole to my advantage!

My dad’s boss would give us the same thing year after year.
A crate of oranges, something we never had at any other time.
I can still see the juice on my hands as we devoured that special gift.

I wouldn’t trade those Christmas memories. The greatest gift was feeling
warm, and safe…and loved.


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A Spark of Hope

A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…


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The "Journey Through Christmas"

In my hometown of Hillsboro
A humble, small suburb
There stood a church that was more humble still
In that cozy congregation
We'd teach and learn the Word
And try each day to do the Father's will

But our little congregation
Each year at Christmastime
Would execute a miraculous feat!
The whole town would come out in droves
To view what we'd present
A Christmas pageant right next to the street!

The first vignette was of a home
A modern family
Telling of that first Christmas long ago
The next scene showed the palaces
Of Herod on his throne
When his grim proclaimation he bestowed

Each onlooker could walk or drive
From scene to sacred scene
But either way, observers saw the worth
For every stop would reenact
The story of God's love
From Herod to the blessed Savior's birth

The community seemed hungry
To hear the wondrous news
Of the Messiah, born to die for us
And like them, we were richly blessed
To share with all who came
The spectacle-- a Journey Through Christmas!







*This is a true story that I've presented in poetry form for Carolyn Devonshire's "Christmas 
in Your Town" Contest


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A Church Service to Remember

Maud, the meek poverty stricken seventy year old matriarch of the people spoke proudly as the relief shown on her face. “Two weeks ago I had tests run at Sparks Medical Center in Fort Smith they told me that my old body was almost totally eat up of cancer. I ask a brother at that time here in the church whom I respect and have faith in to pray. He simply said as he laid hands on me, them that believe shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover. (Mark 16:18 KJV) Why that is all he said as he asks me to agree with him.” “I stand before you today, one day before Christmas, totally free of cancer. I was scheduled yesterday to begin receiving radiation, but when they did my blood tests again they could not find one trace of cancer. My doctor said he just could not explain the miracle that had apparently taken place. You apparently know a doctor who is far greater than I am.” Tears of gratitude flowed down Maud’s old, weathered cheeks as the whole church stood and rejoiced with their precious matriarch mother. This was a Christmas eve of rejoicing like non other, and there was not a dry eye in the whole church. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A true story from 1987 in Moreland Arkansas Free Full Gospel Church. This charitable hearted lady lived several years after this and died of simple old age at around 90 years of age. For Carolyn’s Contest: Your Christmas Miracle


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The Christmas Kiss

I was sitting in the crowded train station with time to waste, waiting on the train to take me home on Christmas Eve.  A very pretty, young lady, carrying a full backpack headed for one of the only open seats across the aisle from me next to a rather dirty and disheveled older man.

As she removed her backpack to sit down he glared up at her; she smiled a beautiful bright smile and said to him, “Merry Christmas”.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas”, he barked up at her.

“Yeah?  Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy on the day that I celebrate Christmas.  And I hope the day is merry for you as well.”

“What is there to be merry about”, he moaned, “A bunch of hypocritical religious zealots pretending to be nice to one another while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.”

“Well, at least for that one day, most of us believe the hypocrisy, and even for just a few hours, we practice the morals that our religion tries to instill in us.  At least on that one day, for us religious zealots, there is a glimmer of hope that we can save the world from going to hell and, I, for one, believe that is reason to be merry.”

“Terrific!  And, what does that get me,” he whimpered.
	
“Well, what you get is this one time of year, when a twenty-two year old college girl is not afraid to sit next to you; smile at you; and, wish you a Merry Christmas.  And, if you just say, ‘Thank you’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ back to her, she just may give you the biggest and best kiss you have ever experienced.”

She stood back up and started to put her backpack back on as he simply stared up at her.  Once she was situated and ready to move on towards her train, she stopped; smiled at him again; and, said, “Merry Christmas.”

It seems I was not the only stranger that was witnessing this exchange.  All of those around me were perched on the edge of their seats waiting to see what might happen.  The old man cracked a little smile.  A glimmer came to his eyes, and he said, “Thank you.  And, Merry Christmas to you, too.”

The girl leaned down and planted a kiss right on his lips for what seemed like ten minutes.  Smiles lit up the faces of all the men, women and children watching this take place.  When the girl finally pulled back, the old man was frozen in place with a big ole smile on his face.  She adjusted her backpack and started heading towards the tracks.  All the men she passed on her way who witnessed this exchange anxiously yelled, “Merry Christmas” as she passed, hoping for a kiss as well.

I looked back at the old man who was still in a dream.  Suddenly he caught me looking at him and barked, “What are you staring at?”

I just shook my head back and forth and said, “Merry Christmas”.

“Yeah!  Well Merry Christmas to you, too” he shouted.


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Old Fashioned Christmas Parade

We gather on the streets
Lining up in the cold
Waiting just to see them
Remembering days of old

The harnesses made of leather
Their bells are colored gold
Horses pull their carriages
And prance into our souls

Here come the Christmas carolers 
But Santa steals the show
As the children gather candy
Look how their little eyes glow

Our hearts filled with Spirit
We enjoy each rendition
The Old Fashioned Christmas Parade
A Lawrence, Kansas tradition



Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend


*inspired by Carolyn's "Christmas in Your Town" contest.


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The Sugar Cube House

Love is a season
And holidays mark the seasons, like signs in the road
Reflecting the bumps in our journey, but showing us a way back home...

Sixteen, in pajamas, watching the rain pelt down
It was long past midnight, Christmas eve
Twinkling lights on one house across the road, stared back at me
It was if they were trying to fill our void with color
The block was filled with a hundred black windows
And the blackness somehow seemed more appropriate  
There was no Christmas tree in our house this year
I suppose Dad felt it was too soon, or perhaps just the effort to get through each day
                                                                            had taken all the strength he had...
We had stayed up and watched a Christmas program together...
It was Perry Como, I think....somehow I remember how he sang "Ava Maria"...

My brother had come home from the Air Force earlier that week
He had helped bring us a bit of cheer....at least for awhile...
but he had been called back to duty, and I missed him terribly...

The house was silent after Dad had gone to bed
I wasn't sleepy....and it was lonely looking out at the cold night
It seemed the whole world was sleeping, 
                                 getting ready for the sun to shine on Christmas morning...

I started to head for bed, but noticed a light had been left on in the front coat closet
I opened the door, and looking up, to pull the chain, I noticed the box...
   The little box that kept the sugar cube house
It was one that Mom and I had made together when I was 8 years old... 
         Little sugar cubes stacked into walls and a roof, glued together with red frosting.
We had copied one out of her Ladies' Home Journal....surrounding it with little trees, and 
people skating on a mirror for a pond, things we had found at the 5 and 10 cent store
Carefully packed away last year, on Mom's last Christmas....

Throughout the night, I sat in the dimness of the house, laying out the sugary scene on the 
fireplace mantel....as Mom would have done .

When the freckled morning moved into day...
I woke on the sofa...Dad sitting next to me.  He had covered me with a warm blanket.
He held me and we cried together.
After breakfast....he disappeared outside, and soon came in carrying a sorry looking branch 
from our old evergreen tree.
We decorated that bedraggled branch...it wasn't the most beautiful tree we had ever had
But it brought Christmas back to my family...


For Constance La France's contest "Your Saddest Christmas Ever"
Carrie Richards


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Teaching an Old Dog

All I remember is going into the garage to get the snow shovel.
 
I am not even sure how much of the driveway I managed to shovel.  Apparently, I was lying in the snow for several hours before one of the neighbors noticed me.

The next thing I remember is waking up from a deep sleep to the sounds of beeping machines with tubes and wires stuck into and on my body.

As I slowly regained consciousness and my eyes were able to focus, I was aware of a young, bald child looking down on me.

“Hi,” said the smiling, angelic face.  Given the child’s age and complete baldness, I could not tell whether they were a boy or a girl.  And, with the tube inserted in my throat and taped to my mouth, I was in no position to return their salutation.

I tried to remember who this child might be and why they were here with me.  I guess my eyes displayed my confusion as the child said, “I'm Elizabeth.  They let me walk around the hospital a little.  Sometimes I sneak out of the oncology wing and look for people who have no visitors.  I like to make sure someone is there when they wake up.  I know I always like to see someone when I wake up from my operations.”

She just stood above me smiling.  I then noticed she was holding my hand.

“Sometimes it is hard for family members or friends to come visit.  Some people just really don’t like hospitals.  And, I guess”, she said, “not everybody has someone that close to them.  So, I like to become their visitor for them.  I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t mind.  Although it did make me embarrassed to realize that I fit in the latter category; I didn’t have anybody that close to me.

She just smiled at me and petted my hand as the medications worked their magic on me and I started to drift back off to sleep.  I heard a nurse come into the room and say, “There you are, Honey.  You need to get back to your room now and leave this nice man be.”

The next time I regained consciousness, I noticed a hand drawn picture of a house with a Christmas tree out front with a note that said, “I hope you get home before Christmas” and was signed by Elizabeth.

Each new day, I was welcomed by another drawing of Christmas scenes; smiling faces; reindeer; and, starry skies.  All containing a happy note and all signed, ”Love, Elizabeth”.

After ten days of recovery and following the insertion of two stents into my heart, I was well enough to return to my empty home.  On my way out of the hospital, I stopped by the Oncology Wing to say good-bye and thank you to Elizabeth.  When I asked the nurse at the floor station where I could find Elizabeth, she replied, “Oh I'm sorry, Elizabeth is no longer with us.”

I then said, “Well can you tell me her home address or phone number, I would really like to thank her for visiting me in my hospital room this past week.”

The look on the nurse’s face indicated that I misunderstood what she had meant.  Elizabeth was no longer with us.

Sadly, I started walking towards the exit.

Just before I got to the elevator, I noticed an open door with a man lying on his bed, with tubes in his nose and throat and nobody else in the room with him.  I went into his room and sat in the empty chair.

When he opened his eyes two hours later, I said, “Hi, I'm Joe.  I noticed there was nobody here when you were brought back from your operation and I know how nice it is to see a smiling face when you wake up, so I thought I would sit here with you for a while.  I hope you don’t mind.”

He squeezed my hand; gave a slight smile; and, slowly drifted off back to sleep.


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The Fog Rolls in

The fog rolls in surrounding me,
My hand before me, I barely see.
A heaviness as moisture clings to the air,
Ghost like shadows from trees that are bare.

I walk forward I don’t want to look back,
I grab a new card from off of the stack.
I think of it like turning over a new leaf,
I take a deep breath and hope for relief.

I turn the corner there are lights shining bright.
Blue lights resonate and glow in the night.
A Christmas tree lit, entirely in blue,
Like a beacon in the fog it shines right through.


The Christmas tree lights shine much like my hope,
I try to break free with some slack in the rope.
They bring a smile and fill me with content,
As the fog thickens the lights don’t relent.

They seem to glow within the fog,
I lose my bearing as I trip on a log.
I feel like a ghost upon a canvas of white, 
It all disappears within the confines of night.

I hear a bell from a church on the hill,
Its haunting sound from what was still.
It seems to call to me to just forge on.
All of a sudden the ringing is gone.

I stand in darkness just me and the fog,
Something awakens, memories it jogs.
I think of my journey and all I’ve been through,
What has been done and what’s left to do.

It hasn’t been easy though it’s not bad.
I have fond memories of great times I’ve had.
Still something’s missing as I look for the door,
I know it can’t be like it was once before.

The winds picks up, adds a chill to the air.
It awakens my senses so I really don’t care.
I stand at the threshold to the future and past.
I will simply step outside, the shadows it casts.


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Santa is Real

Christmas eve, wind so cold
Scent of pines all over our home
Tiny, shiny lights and decors
Gifts and presents to give for all

i'm just a little boy who loves Christmas
'cause i receive toys, and candies sometimes
But the best i want to experience,
Is to feel Santa's existence

My mama told a story about Santa
Fat, white-bearded, and in a red suit man
Living with his reindeers in North Pole
Making gifts for kids with kind soul

I put a big sock on my wall before I sleep
'cause they said Santa will put something on it
I have been a good boy this whole year
Hope he will give me the toy I've wished

I woke up, breeze, and felt so cold
It's twelve o'clock midnight, dong! dong!
Scared, frightened, I know I'm not alone
I kept my eyes conscious, alert in my room

I suddenly saw a Man who has a box
wrapped in a green paper, with a ribbon on top
He came near to my room, and found the sock
Happy, calm face, he put the box inside

I closed my eyes, for him to think i'm asleep
He sat on my bed and patted my hair
Said these words to me, and felt his heartbeat
"I love you, be a good boy again next year"

"Santa is real!" early in the morning I've yelled
All was awake because of my excitement
I've showed them the sock with a gift
Told the story of what was happened

Santa's expression is smile, not Ho!ho!
Santa is not fat! but a fit person
His beard and hair is not white, but brown
He's wearing white, shining like a sun!

***

1st Place
"Story Poem" contest
Sponsored by: Carol Eastman


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Naughty


It's the night before Christmas Santa and this house is a mess.
Most of it beer cans and bottle so I am caught I guess,
Last year you came and you brought me good cheer,
I just kept it going pretty much all year.
I guess I have been Naughty
Don't judge me, you're just a greedy old man.
deciding which of us can't be rewarded and which ones can
I got news for you Q-tip, I am no longer ten,
So I have been bad this year, next year I am doing it all again.
'Cause I like being naughty
Oh, and since you're here now with that dumb look on your face.
I think it's high time that someone finally puts you in your place.
You're breaking and entering and we have the right to shoot,
tracking in reindeer mess and wetness from your ugly snow boots.
YOU HAVE BEEN NAUGHTY!
This year don't eat the cookies, or you will regret,
it's not poison, but your intestines will fret,
and those reindeer's will make good mounts on my wall,
It could still be deer season after all
I will be naughty!
Don't point your fingers and shake them at me
you put me on the naughty list ever since I was three
I just decided now Santa, I will prove you right
and for you, tied to this chair, It will be a long long night
I love being Naughty!


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I wish it happened on Xmas

              In this cold wave I walked coldly in cold sweat.
          Taking a brisk walk like we shared in the old times.
                 Where I was headed for, I couldn’t envisage.
       But I was just walking hoping to catch a glimpse of something that could be a muse.

          I came across a bridge; what seemed like a labyrinth for lost and found souls.
              It was calm but very cold. It was still; the stillness seemed like a still alarm.
          The sun was not out-of-town. It gleamed and its sheens were much appealing.
              The tides were noticeable. They were out-of-the-way and seemed outpaced.

      Though the tides were astronomical, the sea lochs on the far side of the waterway
      were impressive in what seemed like an assemblage of oak fern, chinquapin oak and
      deciduous trees and displayed a mirror image of the trees with a thin misty
      atmospheric effect up-swinging as the warmth descend on the wintry water.

          Though I walked in cold sweat, I wished for a cold pack 
          to sooth my icily feelings created by your absence. 
             Then my wishes began to pop up. 
      I wish you were there with me. I thought about what you could do with such sights.
              I wish you were fleshly present in my heart. 
      I wish I could share with you this swift serenity encompassed in a deeply impressive 
     dignified quality with our hands clamped as we briskly walk on Christmas day.
              I wish it happened on Christmas.


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NO SANTA CLAUS

NO SANTA CLAUS?

Brother Billy told him,
“Aint no Santa Claus”
Timmy didn’t want to believe his sibling
Just the very name of Santa was magic –
Santa Claus
Those fur-lined endings
Anta
Aus
The colorful red suit
Splendid black boots
Wide leather belt
And that snowball on top of his hat
“Delivers presents to the world?” scoffed Brother Billy
“Aint no way!”
But Timmy, at Christmas time, didn’t think with his head
Timmy thought with a child’s imagination
And the season gathered his conscious round with colors,
    music and sweetness
Mom and, especially, dad didn’t object to Billy’s scolding
“Timmy    after all    is old enough now” dad advised mom
“I’m never putting on that damn suit again!”

Timmy thought and thought 
Couldn’t sleep that Christmas Eve night for thinking
He positioned himself on the seat at the big bay window in
    his room    wrapped in a blanket    knees up to his 
    shoulders    and    watched the moon
Watched till his eyelids began to droop
No Santa
Mom found him asleep around 1:00 a.m.
She and dad had been busy wrapping presents
She    lovingly    picked him up and put him to bed with 
   Growl    his big stuffed bear

Around 2:30 a.m. – mom had been thinking and thinking
    just like Timmy – mom checked to see if dad was asleep
Then!    grabbing the jingle bells from under the tree
She climbed the stairs to Timmy’s room    opened the door
    a crack    looked around    as though anticipating escape
Then!    with a joyful smile    shook the bells vigorously!    

                      
 
 

   

                      
 
 


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An Inmates Dark Christmas

An Inmates Dark Christmas....
It was the first Christmas right after my momma passed away.
Any other Christmas I'd be making the best of the situation, but it was a very dark day!
It was a day I wanted to escape from, and nothing could distract my mind.
My body felt so numb, and the pain fed off of me being confined.

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
I laid on my bunk in a funk in that cold dark cell.
I was emotionally drunk, and that Christmas day was pure hell!
I pictured my momma in my minds eye, we were hanging decorations on the Christmas tree.
It was at that moment I wanted to die, for I just knew I would succomb to insanity!

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
That day I even contemplated suicide, for the pain and loneliness was just too much.
A bonified emotional homicide, for my momma I would never see or touch!
That Christmas I was a man with an empty shell, and a troubled soul.
A day of pure hell, and alone in that cell became my dark little hole.

An Inmates Dark Christmas...
I thought that day would never end, but then Christmas was gone.
No family or friend, for I was still terribly alone!
Christmas is still the hardest day of the year, but I manage to get by.
And although I still shed a tear, at least I no longer wanna die!


By Jimmy Matthew Anderson for Constance La Frances contest "Your Saddest Christmas 
Ever"


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LISA'S IVORY MUSIC BOX

Many Christmas stories are told every year,
and many songs are sung with pure cheer;
do I have a good story, at least one, I can tell,
or a simple song I can hum and spread good will?


When Lisa's grandmother passed away unexpectedly...
by her dying bed she kept an ivory music box,
and to her lovely granddaughter she gave it
to saying," Take care of it, and smile when you think of me!"


The day after granny died, she went down the dark cellar
to hide the ivory music box in an old dresser's drawer,
and once in a while she would open it and play it and listen to it sadly;
the pretty angel swirled...and Silent Night played as Lisa touched it tenderly.


It was almost Christmas Day and the pine tree wasn't decorated yet,
she rushed outside carrying a red basket with ornaments in it;
how could she had forgotten to adorn it with bulbs and garlands?
" Oh gosh, I feel like the Grinch!"  she displeasingly uttered to herself. 


There was no snow predicted for that evening and the illuminated town
was lacking Nature's magical snowflakes to make it festive and vibrant;
five minutes to midnight the choir from the nearest church gathered outside,
and waited for a miracle...silence...tranquility...every heart felt so alone.


But Lisa with an indomitable spirit ordered them to sing, 
and they began singing looking up the clearest, starriest sky;
everyone seemed sad and some of them wanted to cry,
but before sadness set in...snowflakes began falling.


Lisa knew that it was the miracle she had been waiting for,
but something was missing from the snowy scenery...
she remembered her ivory music box she had put away,
and running, with awe in her bright eyes, she opened the cellar's door...


Clutched in her caring, careful hands, she carried the ivory music box,
laid it gently underneath the twinkling, scented Christmas Tree;
Lisa kissed it tenderly...until the golden angel started to swirl at midnight,
as that divine music filled the nippy air...making all cheeks so peachy.        


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Christmas Eve from Mouse's Viewpoint

It’s Christmas Eve and through the house There creeps a curious little mouse. He climbs into the big arm chair And finds the cookies waiting there. He only takes the smallest bite. Santa will find his treat tonight. He gazes with wonder at the tree And the bright wrapped gifts left there to be A mystery tale to tell his spouse, When he gets home, this curious mouse. What an adventure it has been, He has drunk of some spilled over gin, That had been left upon the table. His wife will think it is a fable He has concocted to amuse her. She is home-bound, we must excuse her. He once came home all out of breath To say he had been scared to death By a huge rat with fluffy tail. She noticed he was very pale. “While I was nibbling off some cheese To bring to you, my love, to please. He almost had me in his paws. I’m sure he wasn’t Santa Claus”. But this night is so very quiet. He spies some fruitcake, has to try it. It reminds him of that sip of gin And wonders if his head will spin. He hears a noise, runs for his life, Carrying fruitcake for his wife. Christmas morning, spread before their eyes For the baby mice, a grand surprise. Their mama had fixed a Christmas meal From food their dad managed to steal. A bit of butter, a glob of jam And a fairly good-sized piece of ham. Bread crumbs saved from other forays. They had enough to eat for days. Those little mice would never waste it. If they didn’t like it they’d still taste it. This food their mamma set before them, Their dad risked his life to get it for them.


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It Wasn't Christmas

I finally heard some encouraging news on TV.  A new study reveals that stress is causing the high blood pressure and weight gain that so many Americans are battling these days.  I’ve heard so many things being blamed for these maladies that I had about given up.  But, I believe I can live with this one.
As I write this, its less than a month since Christmas.  At the beginning of December, I was a trim one hundred sixty-five pounds.  Today, I checked and that figure mysteriously climbed to one hundred eighty-four.  That happened in just a little over a month.  To tell the truth, I was beginning to worry just a little.  I thought for sure it was because of Christmas.
You see, so many nice people gave me presents like home-made chocolate fudge, a three-pound box of chocolates, plus a pounder and a pounder-and-a-half of Russell Stover.  Why, I even received a huge can of cashews.  Not those broken, crumbly pieces, but those big fat perfect ones.  Well, come to think about it, there was also a yule log.  You know the kind, creamy nougat center wrapped in pecans.
Then to top it off, my wife baked cookies, raisin nut, chocolate chip and peanut butter.  And then as a final straw, my daughter baked those soft, chewy ginger snaps.
My mother taught me to be a polite person, so I didn’t want to disappoint her and I tried just a little bit of each item.  You really do believe me don’t you?
I checked the supplies just to see how they were holding out.  I vaguely remember the cookies, I think they made it about six days.  The cashews?  Ha!  They were gone the next day.  There’s one layer left in the three-pound box, and the Russell Stover’s each have one piece left.
A conservative figure totals all those gifts at right around ten pounds, and I really did have some help.  So, where did that other nine pounds that I gained come from?
Well, come to think about it, our church gave the best box of candy I ever remember a church handing out.  And just because they love me so much, and because I’m their pastor, they gave me two boxes!
To be honest, I did attend my grandson’s sixth birthday the week before Christmas.  I just had to eat a piece of his ice cream cake, didn’t I?


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Christmas Is A-Coming



Christmas is a-coming With all it's joys and toys No matter our age We never lose that little child excitement Every Christmas morning, our hearts start pumping Anxious to know what the jolly old man Has left for us under the tree The smell of pine, the glitter of the tinsel The multitude of colourful twinkling lights Happiness reigns supreme I wonder if Santa heard me ask for my special gift? Will Mom, Dad and my sister like what I bought them? At no other time of the year are families so close If only we could bottle up the love and enthusiasm And let it out when we need it through the year That jolly old man is watching with a big grin on his face To see how much happiness he has bestowed on us And hopes it will last till next time he rides into town Ahh! Christmas, there's no other time like it Christmas is a-coming With all it's joys and toys Happy, happy, happy! Merry Christmas to all! © Jack Ellison 2014


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The Lighting of The Tree

In our little town all is as it should be
We gather down at the Christmas tree

Us simple folk are not too greedy
We all bring gifts to give the needy

Light the tree and sing our songs
As everyone seems to get along

Especially bright this time of year
Everyone has Christmas cheer

I love the lighting of the tree
The entire towns hospitality

How everyone shares their love
Giving thanks to the Lord above

We live what Christmas is all about
Come on over and check it out

You’ll find love flowing abundantly
The night we light our “Christmas Tree”


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© Goode Guy 2012-12-02


Details | Narrative | |

Forever in Christmas

Old man Carter lived all alone, quietly nestled in his quaint little home. 
Arthritis kept him crippled, writhing in excruciating pain, his wife long 
since departed, leaving him nothing more to gain. His children made 
arrangements, to place him in a nursing home. They lacked the 
compassion to inform him face to face, knowing he would surely die in
this unfamiliar place. He lost his will to live, life had tragically passed 
him by, without his long lost Eleanor, his only hopes were to die. There
he sat in his recliner, a rigid shell of an old man, quietly he uttered to the
Lord,..."Father, forgive me", as he clasped a revolver in his frail, arthritic
hand. Suddenly, an image appeared before him, it was clad in solid white.
Old man Carter could hardly open his eyes, for the radiance was unbearably
bright. Soon, the light diminished, the image's skin was fair. The old man's
eyes began to focus as he observed a figure with long, coarse
hair. The image's eyes were gentle, bearing scars above the brow. Open
wounds the width of nails pierced both its delicate hands. Then, in a soft-
spoken voice it said,..."No more shall ye suffer, old man". "Set aside thy
weapon", the image went on to say,..."You're going home to Eleanor, 
upon this Christmas Day". The old man passed on to heaven, he was
discovered the very next day. "Such a tormented soul was he!" That's what
the neighbors would say. It was there on a table beside him, a scribbled 
poem which sadly read,...
                                      "Christmas is the day I wed,
                                       The true love of my life;
                                       Christmas is the day I've chosen,
                                       To join my beloved wife
                                        
                                       Jesus arrived to take me,
                                       The hour's a quarter past four;
                                       Suicide's never an option,
                                       I'm with Jesus and my sweet Eleanor"...

                                                     Goodbye


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Bird Man : A Christmas story Part two

cont...

His creatures failed to listen to His guidelines to grow
and got lost in their own wills. The rest we know.
So the Maker of his creatures animal and Human, the Generator Himself  Creator of billions of stars and galaxies
black holes, planets, moons, suns, 
time, space and all material, of everything visible and invisible …
decided in Pure Love to send down His Son, His Mirror 
to become one of His Creatures. He, the Alpha and Omega,
The Beginning and the End, the second Person of the Blessed Trinity,
God Himself…. Came down to be one of His creatures… His little ones.
He came down and became one of us to lead us, to save us, show us the Way. Christ.

There was a man who did not and would not believe,
who could blame him in a world set to deceive.
One wintry freezing blustery Sunday after his family went to church,
he was watching the birds outside his picture window.
They were freezing to death he could see,
no place to hide and warm themselves in the bare trees.
His bird feeders had toppled in the snow
and his little friends had no where to go.
He quickly went to his entrance door and opened it wide
spread seed and suet in a trail into his house.
“Come inside my little friends he cried!”
I won’t hurt you and you will be safe here with me.
but they didn’t believe him…. Who could blame them
he thought in a world set to deceive….

Then in his anguish for his little friends he thought,
if only I could just for a day become one of them
to fly out there, then they would believe me! 
then they would follow me into my house…where it’s warm.
and they would be saved! Poor little ones!

Then he understood…. 
The next Sunday He filled his birdfeeders
and went to the Christian church with his family.
to give thanks to the Almighty Love. 
It was CHRISTMAS day.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE !!!




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A Mouse Family's Christmas

It's Christmas Eve and through the house 
there creeps a curious little mouse.
He climbs into the big arm chair 
and finds the cookies waiting there .
He only takes the smallest bite.
Santa will find his treat tonight.

He gazes with wonder at the tree
and the bright wrapped gifts left there to be
a mystery tale to tell his spouse,
when he gets home, this curious mouse.
What an adventure it has been,
he has drunk of some spilled gin
that had been left upon the table.
His wife will think it is a fable
he has concocted to amuse  her.
She is homebound, we must excuse her.

He once came home all out of breath
to say he had been scared to death
by a huge rat with fluffy tail.
She noticed he was very pale.
"While I was nibbling off some cheese
to bring to you, my love, to please,
he almost had me in his paws.
I'm sure he wasn't Santa Claus".
But this night is so very quiet.
He spies some fruitcake, has to try it.
It reminds him of that sip of gin
and wonders if his head will spin.
He hears a noise, runs for his life,
carrying fruitcake for his wife.

Christmas morning, spread before their eyes
for the baby mice, a grand surprise.
Their mama had fixed a Christmas feast
from food their dad had saved from beast.
A bit of butter, a glob of jam
and a fairly good-sized piece of ham.
Bread crumbs saved from other forays.
They had enough to eat for days.
Those little mice would never waste it.
If they didn't like it, they'd still taste it.
This food their mama set before them,
their dad risked his life to get it for them.

11/22/14


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The Christmas Box

I want to tell you a story,
about one Christmas morning.
The snow was falling,
and the wind was roaring.
Holly and Christmas ferns decorated the door.
Gifts piled high around the tree on the floor.
Home baked goods from the kitchen filled the air.
The children opened their gifts with great care.
Time stood still for a moment when,
I reached for the box to open.
The box was white like snow.
Delicately tied in a big red bow.
Inside the box was a gift for me.
A tiny silver bell laid silently.
I picked it up and it begin to ring.
The music of Christmas, so charming.
My little girl said, "I hope you like your present too."
"Every time you ring the bell, a note of love from me to you."
A silent tear fell from my eye.
What a beautiful gift, and such a surprise.
I placed the bell on the mantle with care.
Even today it still sits there.
This happened many years ago.
The Christmas box with the big red bow.
A tiny silver bell plays a precious tune.
A note of Christmas joy from me to you.


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time is in sight but beyond reach

Winter is on the tips of her fingers.
Winter is silver on her breath as she exhales,
oxygen stamped with her name, forgotten
as either one,  
stiffening into smoke like her hair
against the twilight.
Her tears are winter on her face -
winter ice like her eyes when she can 
force them open.

Winter is in her poinsettia smile, 
wrinkles rising
while she remembers this scarf,
the first time she wore it,
that Christmas when he was there
to kiss her nose and give 
her champaine-promise, stomach-flutter
feelings again and again
and see her eyelashes when they filled up 
with snow 
like pearls on a string.

Winter is turning,
a music-box key 
in her throat as she feels her head 
bowing of it's own accord from the sky
to the dirty grey slush of the sidewalk.
Winter stops her ears to people passing,
wondering at a very old woman in 
a ratty old coat
and one
very red, frayed scrap of knitted cloth
bunched up in her claw fingers 
like the blood in her veins, 
becoming winter.

Winter hums christmas carols in her 
heartbeat while she shudders
and sobs against the cold -
and silent night, the virgin birth
slowing into a winter evening
lit only by streetlamps.
She grasps blindly at the whisper
of pipe-smoke and familiar old
love when his ghost hits her 
with a mistle-toe touch on her cheek.

She listens to the ice splinter,
cracking skin.

She wipes her face, trickling down
like the night to the street, hearing 
the clock tick, all those
longing little chimes like winter
on her senses.
It's twelve-o-clock now.

She shuffles on.


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Tale: Mary Magdalene

Behold, one day was a woman who was found in possession of many men. Good men, enamored by some other concubines and some married. And in the year 30 BC the law was harsh and severe. And the woman was taken to a prophet who was in the region to be tried and sentenced to stoning.

The wise heard all the witnesses, the men who were involved with this woman claimed they were attracted by its impurity and its spells, the wives of men who lay with Magdalene really wanted it to be stoned.

Then the sage asked: where is the adulteress? And all pointed to the ground, with stones in hand ready for stoning, toward the woman who was in tears. And again the sage asked where the adulteration? And all again pointed to the woman who was on the ground crying.

His tears fell at the feet of the thinker who stopped for a moment and said to the crowd:

"When each of you pledged to love each other as a sign of respect for the Creator at least stopped to reflect on the consequences that the adulteration of thought would lead to their own destruction teaching?

What did this woman beyond just love?

I see in their faces adulterated by the expression of a thought that leads to hatred and seeks the destruction of the next as to what gushes misunderstanding.

Who really had adulterated the divine purpose? One that gave the body a sign of love for others or those who changed their initial purpose in interacting with the creator?

Then so be pronounced the sentence. He who does not have it in your face adulterated the true purpose of love that judge this woman for the crimes that have been allocated to it, ... "

And one by one all left without even a stone was thrown.

Author: Max Diniz Cruzeiro
LenderBook Company

How would the master: "Love one another as I have loved you"; "Love God above all things and your neighbor as yourself"


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Midnight at Blackfriars

Midnight at Blackfriars 
  
The city spires are hidden, 
It’s getting colder fast, 
It feels as though we might have 
Some snow this month at last. 
The wind sweeps keenly through St. Giles(1) 
The hour is getting late. 
Fleeting forms across the scene, 
Are making for the gate. 
  
December is upon us, 
The year is wearing thin, 
Parishioners from town and gown 
Now are gathering in.  
Rosy cheeks are shining, 
There’s a spirit of good will, 
We’re coming in for Midnight Mass 
The Christmas Eve Vigil. 
  
Forgotten is the riot  
Of Saint Scholastic’s Day,(2) 
To celebrate the Savior’s birth, 
We worship now and pray. 
Conjoining with the acolytes 
Dressed in cassock’s white, 
We’re caroling together, 
Upon the holy night. 
  
A gallant in best evening wear, 
Bow tie and cummerbund, 
And a high-heeled damsel on his arm, 
Is down from Summertown. 
A staff nurse from the Radcliffe,(3)  
Whose shift was at an end, 
Was seated close beside them 
Clutching at her friend. 
  
There the widow all in black, 
Who cleans the votive stands, 
Holds her missal open 
With stubby fingered hands. 
She blends with the congregants, 
Ignoring the celebs,  
And is back up for the service 
From somewhere in St. Ebbs.(4) 
  
A student in thick sweaters 
And ragged scarf of grey 
Is seated on the furthest aisle 
Hair all in disarray. 
Across the nave the prayer chairs, 
Range back in their rows, 
Filling up with congregants 
In coats and gloves and throws. 
  
In from the rear the friars process 
With candles all aglow, 
Up the side aisle to the chancel, 
Caroling as they go. 
Above their heads upon the walls 
Are stations of the cross, 
Reminders set in stark relief 
Of this night’s final cost. 
  
We see the prior in chasuble 
For the apse proceeding, 
To celebrate communion 
And give the sacred reading. 
The greatest story ever told 
Unfolds with familiar ring 
Filling our hearts with the promise 
Of Christ the new born king. 
  
Then with the service over, 
We make for the hall below, 
Where cocoa and mince pies and sherry 
Are served before we go.  
Outside the snow is dusting  
The chained bikes in the Fair, 
Contented now we homeward fade 
Through the Christmas air. 


(1)Saint Giles Fair - Convergence of the Banbury and Woodstock Roads in Oxford extending south the Magdalen Street by Martyrs Memorial.

(2) The St Scholastica Day riot of 10 February 1355

(3) Radcliffe Infirmary - The first Oxford Hospital 

(4) St Ebbes is a district of central Oxford, England,


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Cock Robin and Horatio

Pray sit a while, while I relate this christmas tale for you,
as told to me by a dear dear friend, (I believe it almost true!)
Imagine, by a cottage wall, a snowman stands, forlorn,
made by busy childlike hands, early that very morn,
Alighting on a nearby tree, my friend Cock Robin came,
he knew he had been there before, for everthing looked the same,
"Horatio!" the bird did cry, at the sight of his old old friend
"my dear old man, a twelvemonth's past, and still you do not bend?"
Alas, dear Robin is unheard, at least that's what he fears,
"perhaps my friend Horatio has lost his snowy ears!"
And so he perches nearer by to let the snowman see,
that 'tis Cock Robin he would spy, (if only he would see!)
Horatio turns not left nor right, he does not make a sound,
and poor Cock Robin must decide to stay and stand his ground!
"What jest is this Horatio?, for I know it is thee!",
" I know your eyes, I know your coat, with black coal buttons three"
" and though it has been many month's, you must remember me!"
Yet still the snowman looks ahead, Cock Robin thinks him rude,
"I shall away" the bird did say "from your haughty attitude"
Then, all at once the big church bell began it's midnight chime,
to call all souls to praise the lord, for it is Christmas time!,
"Horatio! Horatio! it is the magic night!",
 the bird then darted here and there and sang with all his might!'
For, on the ground the snow white man began to dance with glee,
singing songs of Christmas cheer, and whistling merrily!.


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Santa, Snowman, and the Gingerbread Man

He stood still in the chilling winter breeze, with a carrot
for a nose, two sticks for hands, two buttons for eyes, and six tiny
buttons for a mouth. During the day, children liked playing around him,
skating and dancing as they danced, sung, and screamed; the smell
of happiness was in the air. The snowman was the only one who wasn't 
enjoying these playful moments, for he was only a pile of snow
that was put together, to look like a human. 
One night, two days before Christmas,
the nasty-looking gingerbread man crept into the children's playing field; he was carrying a torch."I will melt you, and make you part of the icy floor!" he whispered.  He was once a jolly man, who was cursed by a witch, because of stealing her gingerbread. All his friends and family abandoned him, for he looked strange. Since then, he hated anyone or anything that resembled happiness or smile. “Tomorrow the children will have a different look on their faces….” he thought to himself.   An evil smile formed on his face. 
As he stared to melt the snowman, Santa appeared out of nowhere, riding his flying reindeer that carried many gifts.
“What are you doing my friend?” he asked gingerbread man. “I have brought you a gift. It is a wishing coin!” The gingerbread man was so touched, that he wished that that the snowman was alive, so that he could know how it felt to be alive. He then tossed the coin into the air. The snowman then gradually started to move, and utter words. Surprisingly, the gingerbread man turned into a human once more. The witch’s curse was broken by love.
**************************************************************
The Christmas tree lighting was reflecting on a lake; children were sharing gifts, as they sang Carols; the elves were sprinkling magical stardust in the air – it was Christmas after all! It was beautiful to see a man, once a gingerbread man, dancing with the snowman! 


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One December Night (The End)

One December Night
     (Continuation to the End)
    
All that year Santa had hoped and had tried to find a child's love that would strongly abide.  
But month after month he was given the boot.  It didn't matter whether he showed magic or 
gave them some loot.  Many children were selfish.  Not one gave a hoot.  
     Until one cold blizzard night, in a stormy plight, the frog rang the doorbell and walked 
right on in.  In the warmth of the house, after ousting the mouse, four children accepted the 
frog for his good.  It was a happy sight for the frog there that night.  Yes, they showed him 
great kindness and genuine love, the 
spirit of Christmas shown down from above.  The purest of love without expectations turned 
the frog into Santa who promptly gave each one hugs.  “I'll be back with my sleigh to leave 
gifts on Christmas night.  Thank you dear children for your gifts of love tonight.  Leave me 
some cookies.  I shall eat no more bugs!  He laughed as he juggled three gifts in the air.  
Then, soon disappeared out of sight by the moonlight.  
     The children, still laughing and squealing with joy, had broken a spell put on Santa 
last spring.  And the mean old witch that had made him a frog, sat sadly outside all alone on 
the log.  She had made him a frog with a croak, out of tune.  She wanted his voice instead of 
her own.  Christmas carols she had heard bring so much joy.  She could not carry a tune for 
one single song.  She had hoped she could sing if she stole Santa's voice. But the love from 
the children left her no choice.  The spell had been broken by love's sweetest choice. 
But while they were happily playing about, they noticed the wand from the brown bag lay 
out.  So they went to the witch and gave her a voice.  And taught her that goodness over bad 
is a choice.  So together they played with the now happy witch.  Who gave up her evil and to 
goodness did switch.  The gift of pure love and light in the world is a gift to all who give 
heaven a whirl.  For even the wickedest of wicked have some goodness in them.  So, 
encourage the right and to evil say, “Take a flight!”   (And let God be the judge…)

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 5, 2009

Inspired by:
Poetrysoup member's Contest Anything Goes! 	
Sponsored by: Constance La France  (I took you at your word... It's a LONG story.)


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The Mall Santa

One crying kid after another sat on Santa’s lap.
He tried to remain jolly while holding onto squirming, screaming, kicking and 
scratching children.
Those who did not cry had endless lists of toys and games they wanted for 
Christmas.
He was not aware of the electronic gadgets and accessories they asked for in 
abundance.

He had been pee’ed on.  Had his real beard pulled and tugged on.  He had been 
kicked and clawed.  He was even slapped by one mother who did not like the way 
he held her daughter.

Picture after picture for ungrateful parents who commented, “Last year’s Santa was 
much better.”
One spoiled brat after another, disappointed with the snow globe they got for 
sitting on his lap after over an hours wait in line.

Christmas had lost its meaning and joy to the, underpaid, Mall Santa Claus.

Finally, on Christmas Eve, the line had come to an end and one last child waited her 
turn to sit on his tired, wet and weary lap.

Void of enthusiasm, he motioned with his mitten covered hand for the girl to come 
sit on his lap.
He wondered if this would be a crier, a wetter, a silent stiff, a whiner or a spoiled 
brat with a long list of gift orders.

She felt frail as he lifted her up onto his lap.
She removed her cap and displayed a totally bald head.

“Hello, little girl.  And what do you want for Christmas?”, he asked with no emotion 
left in his voice.

She could only answer in a sweet, soft, whisper of a voice, “I came here to say 
thank you, Santa.  I already got my Christmas present.”

“You did?  And what did you get?”, he asked.

“A bone marrow transplant,” was her answer.

“Oh,” was all he could respond with.

“Mommy said it came from Jesus.  So, I thought maybe you could tell Jesus, ‘Thank 
you’, for me.”

“Yes,” he said, with rejuvenated spirit, “yes, I can.”

“Thank you, Santa.  Oh, and Santa, can you give my Mommy and Daddy a nice 
dinner away from the hospital on Christmas day?  They have been there every night 
for a long time and I think they could use a night off.”

“I will see what I can do,” said Santa, with a tear in his eye.

The little girl climbed down off of Santa’s lap, thanked him for the most beautiful 
snow globe she had ever seen, and wandered off down the mall holding her 
parent’s hands.

Santa sat there in the dark for the longest time, having forgotten the hundreds of 
kids who soured his Christmas spirit and smiled, full of Christmas joy for the present 
he had just received.

“And, Jesus,” the mall Santa said, “Thank you from me, too.”


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Christmas season

With Burle Ives singing Frosty the snowman in the background,
and the smell of pies and 
cinamon in the open, warm kitchen, thoughts of Christmas'
 past come to mind. When 
precious God fearing, grand parents were 
around to keep my thoughts on the right path and 
help to increase my faith in a loving heavenly father.
 A father that had the good of the 
family in mind; was the protector of the family and leader. 
Times were more simple and 
precious, hard work was the norm around the small vegetable farm. 
Decorations for Christmas 
were a must, a tree and lights, with many gifts under the tree. 
Kids playing with all the toys 
and each other, usually a board game would
take place after the Christmas eve meal with all 
the cousins, that we all readily enjoyed. 
As the kids got older, and were able to drive, we 
would take a ride to Christmas Lane and look
at the decorations and lights. Then go home to 
wait fot Santa to leave our presents, 
with the fire place's glowing red embers, Santa could 
see the perfect place to leave the gifts arranged for 
best enjoyment and visual build-up. 
Love abounds sitll in our home, with my own son watching for Santa's spies around 
Thanksgiving and wishing for every
toy known to mankind. The awe and wonder are still 
there, but I miss those gone on before, though I 
can imagine the celebration they are having 
up in Heaven, praising Jesus, and loving each other.

For my grand parents-Robert and Leola Kendrick and Marion and Marie Morgan


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The Worst Christmas I Ever Had

I was twelve years old and it was the Christmas Season.
We were on our best behavior; you know the reason.
Christmas decorations were taken down from storage.
Some of them were from last year; some of them were vintage.

Dad brought in the Christmas tree, a fragrant Douglas fir.
Mom put on twinkle lights while listening to our banter.
The three of us, laughing, imaginations unbound.
Jumping up and down with festivities all around.

One by one, we put on bulbs and talked of seasons past.
We sang a few Christmas songs; we were having a blast.
Logs burning in the fireplace warmed us very well.
Happiness was all around until I told this tale.

When I was just a youngster, seven or eight years back.
Christmas Eve, many years before, I shared the flashback.
The babysitter kept me up, my brother in bed.
She made me promise not to tell or I would be dead!

One by one, we opened each gift there beneath the tree.
I knew that it was wrong, because I was older than three.
I felt afraid, but she was so nice, a friend to me.
She re-wrapped every gift and my parents did not see!

I kept my mouth shut all of those years; then came the guilt.
I confessed to Mom; all of a sudden, life went tilt!
Santa won't bring presents; I felt like a doormat.
All you will get is a bag of coal; think about that.

Every time presents arrived, mine would disappear.
I did not believe in Santa Clause, but I felt fear!
Mounds of gifts were piled around; none of them were for me.
Wrath befell me for years past under the Christmas tree.

Solemnly, the weeks went past and I felt very sad.
I guess I deserved it after all; I had been bad.
On Christmas day, postal gifts returned along with one more.
The bag of switches from Santa Clause, I still abhor.

© November 14, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen
Written for: your "Saddest" Christmas Ever Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~


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A Lonely Christmas

The foreman and his missus
Had invited me to share
Their supper on this Christmas Eve
And to join their evening prayer.
Their little ones with shining eyes
Gazed at the Christmas tree,
Excited about their Christmas socks
And the presents they would see.
I walked back to the bunkhouse
Beneath a cloudless sky,
Searching to find the Christmas star
Still shining there on high.
The bunkhouse was warm, but lonesome
With no other cowpokes there.
They'd all gone home for Christmas.
I pretended not to care.
Christmas carols on the radio
Brought back thoughts of the star
That had shone down on those pastures
In that Eastern land so far.
Taking off my vest and Sunday shirt,
I threw them on the trunk.
I stripped down to my underwear
And crawled into my bunk.
My day had started early.
I had worked hard with the crew
So they could start their Christmas fun
When all the chores were through.
With no wife nor kids to need me
I had told the rest I'd stay
And watch out for the cattle.
They could have their Christmas Day.
The warm room made me sleepy
And I started in to doze.
Right there before my bugging eyes
The Christmas Star arose.
I was a lonely shepherd
In that land so far away,
Who had been left to guard the sheep
Until the break of day.
I heard the angels singing
And saw the moving star.
I marveled at the wonder
And glory from afar.
The bright star beckoned to me
And angels led the way
To where the future King of All
Lay in the mound of hay.
I wanted so to follow them
But I had pledged my word.
I had to turn a deaf ear to
The messages I heard.
I knew my solemn duty lay
In guarding helpless sheep.
I prayed the Lord's forgiveness but
The vigil I must keep.
The star reflected in the eyes
Of creatures all around,
Waiting for the lonely stray
Or any sheep they found.
I could not shirk my duty,
To seek Him out that night,
But I knew I never would forget
That glorious, wondrous sight.
I had this dream some years ago,
But should that star reappear
Ive hung up my rope and saddle.
I can follow with no fear.

Buy: Joyce  Johnson (Posted in Cowboy Poetry. Com Dec. 2007)


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TEARS ON SANTA'S CHEEKS

TEARS ON SANTA'S CHEEKS Daddy's little girl is going. Daddy's little girl is slowly leaving... Silent night... it's what the angels are singing Outside there are ringing laughter, however-- on a hospital bed which was cold white as the snow lies the body of a little girl, dead. Her little soul just had to go. She just had to go ahead than the others. Her once sun kissed face when she smiles now the palest cream. Her once twinkling eyes now shut so tight. The glow of light and love she always bring was lost on Christmas night, as Santa stood in red and white holding a present on his hands staring at the child his eyes wet with falling tears for his little girl had died. ©O. E. Guillermo 12:02 am, November 27, 2014


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Its going to be a wonderful Christmas

Its Going To Be A Wonderful Christmas

I watch you across the room and I get a feeling inside
It is a feeling of being a part of a most wonderful ride
As we ride down a snowy lane in a one horse driven sleigh 
You snuggle close to me and bells ring out as if to say

It's going to be a wonderful Christmas
Everybody seems to be in great Spirit this year
Its going to be a very merry Christmas
A Christmas when couples fall in love
And I know how they feel down inside
Like stealing a kiss on a snowy sleigh ride

I take the reins while you snuggle close to me
While we watch the snow falling all around us
And I lean your way to steal a quick kiss 	
You do not for one moment, resist

Oh what a wonderful ride we share
While the children throw snow balls our way
Laughs and giggles fill our voices
We kiss again and we sing songs of our choices

AH Ha Ha, there is joy all around us
The world is a place of fun and glee
Especially when you lean in 
To steal a kiss from me

Yeeesss! It's going to be a wonderful Christmas
Everybody seems to be in great Spirit this year
Its going to be a very merry Christmas
A Christmas when couples fall in love
And I know how they feel down inside
Like stealing a kiss on a snowy sleigh ride


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Stormy Christmas Eve

A Stormy Christmas Eve It had been snowing all day and the skies were looking glum. My mama started crying when the mailman didn’t come. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day; Dad said, “I’ll ride to town.” He put his warm raccoon coat on and pulled his big hat down. Then my mama began to fret. I saw her fingers drumming. “Do you think that you really should? I fear a storm is coming”. My daddy said, “I’ll be okay if I am riding Dan. You know that horse will find the way. He’s smarter than a man.” Then Mama gave him a big kiss and said, “Now do take care.” She waved him off into the storm and wiped away her tear. My mama plucked the turkey and kept looking at the clock while little brother prattled on about his Christmas sock. The storm was growing stronger and the light turned into dark, while I was just a wishing I would hear old Ringo bark. Mama lit the kerosene lamp and started slicing bread. “I should have told him Christmas could be late.” I think she said. About then I heard Ringo bark and saw my mama smile. I knew I’d hear my daddy at the back door in a while. That horse of Daddy’s brought him safely home through blowing storm. He said that he was glad to be back home where it was warm. Then he said he’d met a stranger while on his homeward way. He recognized old Santa Claus with reindeer and red sleigh. Santa said he would be happy to lighten up his pack and be obliged if Daddy would relieve him of plump sack. So little brother went to bed to wake to a surprise from Santa Claus whom our Daddy had seen with his own eyes. By Joyce Johnson (inspired by “Seein’ Santa” picture)


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Once Upon a Christmas 1954 Part 3

.           Oh – the glorious things we saw – shelves full of toys and household goods, glass 
counters with hundreds of bottles of perfume and cologne, shaving gear, tropical birds and 
fish and mountains and mountains of candy.  What to do – what to buy?

	We scurried from one counter to the next, overwhelmed with the endless things to 
choose from as we stammered and stuttered like a couple of idiots.  Finally, we decided on a 
bottle of ‘Lily of the Valley’ perfume and a pair of gloves for mom and ‘Old spice’ cologne and 
gloves for dad.

	We then separated to buy presents for each other agreeing to meet at the soda 
fountain afterwards where we decided it was only fitting we should have a banana split and a 
Coke to celebrate the occasion.  

	As we sat three with our lips covered in butterscotch and ice cream, the gravity of 
the situation began to sink in.  We had spent our entire savings and with that realization, we 
licked our lips and decided the bicycles would have to wait another year.

	Finally – it was Christmas Eve and we put the presents under the tree and hung 
our stockings at the foot of the bed.  In a few hours, those stockings would be filled with 
barley toys, ribbon candy and chocolates.  I could hardly wait!   As mom tucked us into bed, 
I looked out the window and saw it was snowing again.  It snowed all through the night as I 
lay in my cozy bed dreaming of that glorious bicycle again. 

                                                              ---

	Christmas morning we awoke to the sound of the radio; home for Christmas after 
a long stay at the pawn shop as ‘Joy to the World’ rang over her airwaves.

	We dashed to the living room where mom and dad stood beside two bicycles with 
gleaming chrome and multi-colored streamers; not the ones from the store window, but the 
most beautiful bicycles I have ever seen; a red one for me and a blue one for my brother.

	There I stood, my heart overflowing with joy and love as I remembered my 
mother’s blood stained hands and my father’s blue and red stained hands - these hands of 
love that changed two second-hand bicycles into the greatest gift I have ever known and 
taught me the true meaning of Christmas.


•	May the love from that Christmas of 1954 find you and fill your heart with joy.

                                                        Merry Christmas
                                                         To you and yours

	                                               Lainie


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Widow's First Christmas

Turkey's done
dressin'  turned out  fine
gotta stop thinkin'
gonna loose my mind.

     Presents neath the tree
     that boy is one big smile.
     Ain't gonna start cryin
     hold on for awhile.

          God I miss you honey
          each and every day.
          Christimas time don't make no sense
          since you gone to stay.

               Sure miss you carvin'    
               that laughter filled with glee.
               Can't get no Christmas spirit
               when you ain't with me.

May the Lord bless you
keep you safe and sound
We just havin' Christmas
done here on the ground.
   
     Happy Birthday Jesus
     take care o' my ol' man
     and we'll be doin'  your party
     just the best we can.

          Merry Christmas darlin'
          where ever you may be ....
           "Whatcha got there boy?
            A present for me ......  "


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Old Saint Nick

 In her dreams she is visited by old Saint Nick
 He is here to tell her the miraculous story of Christ
 The Star of David was the angel upon the tree of life

 Her papa was a little out of sort as he strung the Christmas lights
 Her mama was slightly tore up as she hung the cardboard reindeer just right
 Grandma was real sick and it was starting to show
 Their old "hand-me-down" house was drafty and cold

 In her dreams she is visited by old Saint Nick
 He is here to tell her the miraculous story of Christ
 The Star of David was the angel upon the tree of life

 For years they had all avoided this place
 Yet a tear stung her eye as forgiving smiles spread across their eager faces
 Christ was born upon this day for a reason
 Come as you are being the ultimate season

 In her dreams she is visited by old Saint Nick
 He is here to tell her the miraculous story of Christ
 The Star of David was the angel upon the tree of life

 She cares not for eggnog and mistle toe
 All she asks is that the love may show
 For Christ lives on in our open hearts 
 Let this day mend where we have drifted apart

 In her dreams she is visited by old Saint Nick
 He is here to tell her the miraculous story of Christ
 The Star of David was the angel upon the tree of life

 She awakes from her dream and runs to sit beside the tree
 Her eyes gleam and this is all she can see
 Old Saint Nick has spread the story of Christ
 She smiles as as Christmas light shines on the tree of life


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Wasch und Fun

"Wasch und Fun"

No need to translate for me for an hour and a half.
You left me to wash  undies at the Wasch und Fun 
while you shopped for lox and wine.
I found the soap and the wasch; but the Fun  eludes.

Every patron, 
even the suspect simultaneously wearing four pairs of pants,
switched out of Deutsch, enjoying the random and unexpected
dusting off of their  Englisch. 

We were united in our cluelessness
of the washing machines mannerisms and the 
strange dichotomy on the open door with the sign that said  “geschlossen”.
We washed in defiance of the sign, desperate for clean clothes on Christmas,
urgently willing the machines to finish drying before the sign proved true. 

You blended into your town again; repatriated anonymity. 
An  American disguised as a local, shopping on Christmas eve in Freiburg,
while your new husband washed undies,
happily oblivious to almost every word  anyone uttered.
Ninety minutes without a translator. Clean clothes and 
Wine for Christmas in Deutschland. 
Bitte.
     -   -   -	                    
JDZoller   Copyright (c) December 2009


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Christmas Night

All is calm, it is Christmas night
Time almost still in reverence
Shutters pulled, streets empty, bare
A Holy silence reigning
Holding it's presence to celebrate a birth.

Panic over, presents exchanged
Fairy lights peep through drapes
Little ones tucked in - depleted
Weary Mums sleep in easy chairs
Dad's still playing with toy trains.

Children come home from abroad
To rekindle after years of parting
They tell safe tales of life and travels
Mothers weep, joy and sadness
They look back, they look forward.

Fridges bulge with turkeys and ham
Free range this and free range that.
Fruit cakes iced with winter whiteness
Decked with ribbons on festive tables.
Empty port bottles awaiting recycle.

Newly weds share their first Christmas
Some couples share their last.
Thousands of red candles flicker.
Youths play board games and charades
In some homes all hell breaks loose.

The Queen of England is on television
She speaks of God and of the economy.
The homeless man is sleeping
Somewhere in the Kerry mountains.
A friend took him his Christmas dinner.

Adeste Fideles plays out the night
A leaf blows down the sleepy street
The festive lights sway in the breeze
Christmas night is closing in.





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Memories Of Christmas

Memories of Christmas through the years,
Have brought lots of laughter and many tears.
Memories of those who have gone on home,
Sometimes leave us sad and alone.
The good times that were had by all,
Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, their happy faces I recall!
The gifts that were given, the fellowship we shared,
The love we all had, showed each other we cared.
The trees were so pretty, the food, oh so good,
Sometimes we would go caroling in the neighborhood.
We would exchange gifts by drawing names,
Some would get clothes, others might get games.
The homes would be decorated with ornaments and lights,
And we would all feast on the many delights!
There would be cakes, cookies, sandwiches, pies, and punch,
Some might eat a lot, others would just munch.
Before you knew it the night would be gone,
And the wait for next year would seem so very long!
But Christmas means more than just these things,
As we remember the birth of the Christ child and the salvation He brings!
He came into this world in a meek and lowly way,
Born of a virgin and in a manger lay.
The Shephards were frightened as the angels came to say,
The great news of His birth on this special day!
Born in Bethlehem, God's only son,
Savior from our sins, He is the only one!
So as I remember the Christmas's of old,
The greatest of all, was the one the prophets foretold!


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IF CHRISTMAS DIDN'T EXIST

Imagine how sad December would seem
if Christmas didn't exist; only the chill
and wind would be felt through the frozen bones,
nobody would live in these northern, frigid zones. 


What was the true purpose of Jesus's birth?
Some even would say that it never occurred,
and why would the Magi travel long days
and nights to pay homage to the humblest of Kings?


It was prophesied by Isaiah in the Old testament and the Wise Men believed him,
following with awe the biggest and brightest star that they had ever seen;
and didn't it seem strange that God would choose those simple shepherds
to be the first to hear that message sung by a thousands of angels?


Wouldn't you be happy when a child cries out and enters life?
Wouldn't you celebrate that event with overwhelming joy and grace?
The same way Jesus entered this world to suffer and die,
and if Christmas didn't exist, who would remember who He was?


Wouldn't that envious angel, whom God expelled from Heaven with haste,
laugh loudly, knowing that we don't worship Him in spirit and faith? 
Fallen Angels are the eternal enemies of this Child, who atoned our sins
by paying with His precious blood...to vindicate the Devil's astute lies!


If Christmas didn't exist, some unbelievers would shout and rejoice,
happy to erase Christ's redemptive message from the earth's surface...
contradicting the Scriptures themselves and the Divinity behind it!
Didn't Herod the Great hate Jesus, fearing He would have become the new King?


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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It's Christmas In The Northwest

The malls are decorated
And happy voices sing.
It's Christmas in the Northwest,
Let all the churchbells ring.
We haul out our umbrellas
And put our slickers on.
We dash between the showers
To get our shopping done.
There are Santas on each corner
As perfect gifts we chase.
We sacrifice our coifed hairdos,
A smile on every face.
It's Christmas in the Northwest
From mountain top to vale.
The raindrops won't deter us
From one more Christmas sale.


won 4th place


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My Saddest Christmas..12/27/'97 Pt. I

There were no premonitions, no feelings of sadness- no dreams
I picked up the phone in the kitchen; my brother-in-law’s voice greeted me
I could tell that he was stalling; thought my younger sibling had misbehaved, again
‘Alright, what’s she done now, and did you guys tell Mama?” I asked. ..(silence)
“Mama’s gone”. He said, almost inaudibly.  Not sure I’d heard correctly,
“What’d you say?”  I asked, feeling the rising fire…”Mama’s gone, Audrey”.
In shock I dropped the phone as I tried to stifle my wailing
Quite useless was my effort, as the family awoke from sleep
For hours I laid sprawled on the floor, no one could console me
The grief so overwhelmed me, left the deepest hole in my heart
When he called again, his voice breaking, he began to explain 
Mama spent days, making the Christmas pudding, a tradition in our family; 
Personally, she’d wrapped the ones to give as gifts - usually left for the children do
Mama’s house throughout the years was the meeting place
Where children, everyone congregated, practically every day
Christmas Day was joyful; friends too had dropped by to share the joy
She had danced with all her grandchildren; she was feeling very well
When I spoke with her early Christmas morning, she gave no sign of being ill

Cont'd
~*~

Note:  By Audrey Carey
 Submitted To: “The Saddest Christmas, Ever” Contest
Sponsored by:  Constance La France, ~A Rambling Poet ~


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The Perfect Gift

Nine months is not very long...although
it seems forever, since you've been gone.

I still remember that knock at the door, two
strangers, I recognized, by the uniforms they wore.

Disbelief in the words, I heard them say...killed in
action, on Christmas Day.

When you left me, for a land far away...I ask Jesus
to keep you safe.

I have been so alone, with just my memories of you,
but today your Christmas Present arrived, and he is
so cute.

He came into this world, giving me back my life,
someone I can hold , all through the night.

Merry Christmas, my sweet soldier...the words 
I never got to say, you gave me a gift so perfect,
in every way.

Even though you are not here, to hold your son,
I promise, he will always know his father, and the 
good you have done.

We will decorate our tree in Red- White- and Blue...
"This year, and always, in remembrance of you."

Merry Christmas from us both, your wife, and baby son,
we will all be together one day....when our work is done.


"Please, pray for our soldiers."




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Remembrance

Remember how neither one of us could remember how we became friends. 
Remember the summers when we would hang out together all day long.
Remember the time you told the man in the McDonalds drive thru that I wanted his 
number.
Remember when we would just sit around and laugh at everything each other said. 
Remember how we set our halfway boundary to the pole in the middle of the field…
but you always seemed to move it closer to your house as we walked. 
Remember when we knocked on that window and it turned out to be the wrong one 
and we had to run and hide.
Remember the trip to Moody and we both rode in the backseat because we didn’t 
trust your Aunt’s driving.
Remember when we made the plans to visit the colleges together that each of us 
planned to attend after this year; Sam Houston for you and Angelo State for me. 
Remember when we sat on Santa Claus’s lap together even though we both were 
too old.
Remember when we didn’t use the word goodbye it was always “see ya lata.” 
Remember that party we went to and laughed forever on the way Craig acted. 
Remember how we used to use the Navarro mail to email each other.
Remember how we used to just sit in your car for hours just talking about our life 
and the plans we had made. 
Remember how you would almost knock my arm off when you laughed.
Remember when we said “best friends to the end.”
Remember when you told me when I ever need anything or just needed to talk, to 
call or come to you. 
Remember how I never got to say “see ya lata.”
Remember that day after Christmas when you left me. 
I remember the feeling of knowing that I will not be able to hear your laugh, voice, or 
sneeze.
I remember how I will never get to hear you say “Whatchu doin” even though you 
see exactly what I’m doing.
I remember how it hurts my heart when I think how I passed by your house on 
Christmas and something told me to stop but I didn’t. 
I remember that I never got to tell you Merry Christmas or Happy New Years. 
I remember how I kept calling your phone when they told me you were gone and 
you didn’t answer.
I remember that the hole in my heart is because my best friend is gone…and will 
never come back.


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Christmas

It is there when all is silent and quiet.
With sugar plums and misled toes dancing in thoughts.
Most time you can see the snow fall as kids play about.
As it is winter time and Christmas is hear again.
And it’s peace and giving again.

But do we always give thanks?
Or is it just during certain times of the year.
But do we truly remember the day!
The day when Christ our Savoir was born.
It was that of a Christmas day.

When Mary gave birth and gifts come from far and beyond.
For this day, there was a new King that had been born.
That all gave glory before Christmas was destroyed.
For there in his heart he gave Jesus unto us to rein.
That in the days at hand, we would know the true love.
And in our hearts he would rein.

It was there somewhere far beyond.
That Christmas is known as king of the year.
For it is there to which a new year rings in.
For there I say Merry Christmas and God Bless my friend.

Hope you think of the real meaning of Christmas this year..
To always be thankful through out the year.
For each day is a blessing just to breathe.
But each day was about giving and caring about the one of no name.
That in your heart, you find a love of that Christmas day.

As you find the spirit of kindness everyday.
May you share a joy of it to the passer by...?
That the spirit of Christmas lives and never dies.
That each day will be in Christ our King.
And In your heart, he will always rein
And that is a true Christmas Day!


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Christmas To Me



The old goose is getting plump Must be some special occasion in the offing Oh I remember, that jolly old man Will soon be riding into town on his sleigh Pulled by eight happy boisterous reindeer He'll be ringing his bell and singing Those happy Christmas songs we all know so well That have been with us for a lifetime “Frosty The Snowman” and “Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow!” Ahhh... those joyous memories of when we were kids Waking up early on Christmas morn But having to wait until Mom and Dad Gave us the okay to tear downstairs Our hearts overflowing with excitement As we first set sight on the gayly wrapped presents Piled high under and around the tree What joy, what excitement Breakfast??? Who could eat breakfast? We were allowed to open one present each But then we had to sit at the table for a good hearty meal How cruel was that, a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast We gulped it down and waited for the signal That we could leave the table And take our seats as our dear old Dad Read the tags on each present out loud When he called out our name, our hearts raced We quickly ripped of the colourful paper That Santa's workers had so carefully placed And screamed out with delight, “I GOT IT!” It was just what we had asked for Santa must have had secret agents snooping around What a time it was and what a time it is remembering!!! © Jack Ellison 2014


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FESTIVE DECORATIONS AND HYMNS

Many Christmas Trees are seen
around the Yule Season in my city;
they all are very tall and beautiful,
but the Rockefeller Plaza's Norway spruce 
is the most gigantic and spectacular
with its multicolored lights that resemble stars.



Christmas is a wonderful experience on New York's City busy streets:
stores, pubs, restaurants and shops dress up with decorations so dazzling;
where else can you find a Santa ringing a bell and spreading good cheers...
wishing New Yorkers and visitors a Merry Christmas with a tone so thrilling?
On Christmas Eve, Saint Patrick's Cathedral echoes with joyful hymns,
and Child Jesus smiles at children as they caress His soft and divine face.



Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Christmas Traditions

Christmas Traditions
     By Dane Smith-Johnsen

It was the Day after Thanksgiving and every store in town.
Had planned to opened wide its doors before daylight could be found.
It was an outlandish sight to see people sleep overnight. 
Shoppers camping on sidewalks people waiting in the moonlight.

The Christmas shopping season was formally set in motion!
Hustling, bustling, getting, and grabbing: bikes, pipes, and lotion.
TVs, wreaths, computers, briefs, trees, ties, anything money buys. 
Some starry-eyed children sway singing with Santa beneath skies.

Meanwhile, Jesus Christ, the nativity, and live manger scenes
Attempt to teach people what the Christmas season really means.
A few carolers come singing along their neighborhood streets. 
And the folks that they sing too, with big smiles, surprise them with treats.

A God loving soul amid the clamorous celebrations,
Gathers his family, to make costumes and preparations.
Mary, Joseph, Jesus, shepherds, and the three Kings with gifts, myrrh.
Reverently, they reenact our blessed Savior's Holy birth.

This poem was written for Carolyn Devonshire's Christmas in Your Town contest.
Poetic form:  A narrative written in couplets.


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Christmas in My Town

The countdown to Christmas day begins
A festive season of light and joy within
Homes cleaned painted polished and buffed
Bright colored lights frame front entry doors
Of all the houses great and small

In living rooms stand the grand Christmas tree
What a delight for Father Christmas to see
Beautiful ornaments hang on every branch
Refreshing pine scent the whole house enhance
The smell of cinnamon wafting over hibiscus shrubs

Children run and play before bedtime soon
Low in the sky hangs a full yellow moon
Reflecting its brilliance on soft white sands
Graceful palm trees dance to the warm ocean breeze 
As a billion stars blanket the navy blue sky
Twinkle in celebration of Christmas in my town


Entered in Carolyn Devonshire’s “Christmas In My Town” Contest


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Waymanville Christmas-for Carolyn Devonshire

Christmas lights aglow, multicolors to replace the scarcely seen snow in the south, USA.Families around the evergreen awaiting the giving of gifts to remember our lord and savior's birth. Blustery weather shopping, season for giving to others and we don't forget the empty stocking fund, salvation army, orphanage and operation Christmas child. Candle light church service, children dressed like angels, wisemen, and shepherds. Baby Jesus' birth day celebration. A time for giving, a time for feasting, a time for decorations and lights, lights, lights!! Oh! don't forget the Christmas photo to send to relatives in the Christmas cards. Red and green colors to represent the blood of christ and evergreen for eternal life. The star on top of the tree, to guide us to the Christ child for salvation. Thank you Jesus for your blessings everyday!!
For the Christmas in your town contest.


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The magic of Christmas

So colorful and festive
that Christmas brings to us;
preparations abound elsewhere –
with gifts, kind thoughts and generosity.

Young and old alike share
what Christmas means to them.
A celebration of faith, an act of life
shown with love and loyalty to God.

Mammoth crowds emerge on the horizons
shoppers found in malls, post offices
and other retail stores.
Like a magic, they meet in different places.

It’s a season suffused with life
pregnant with meaning
and significance.
Like a magic that draws us to reflect
Christmas means for all ages.


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Our Big Chimney

I'm sure that Daddy just forgot when he set the fire alight,
That Santa would be coming down our chimney tonight.
Does Santa have a cell phone?  I'd like to call him please.
I'll tell him not to worry and set his mind at ease.
When I see Mama sleeping and hear my daddy snore,
I'll just creep down the stairway and open up the door.
Santa always finds a way to fill my Christmas stocking
But for Santa to get singed and hurt on Christmas would be shocking.
I thought our chimney ready, Mama had the man to clean it,
I'm really vexed with Daddy, though I know he didn't mean it.
I hope that Santa has a phone he carries in his sleigh,
So when he sees the smoke tonight, he won't just drive away.
Christmas is much more than toys, I heard this from my mother.
If Santa misses I'll be fine, I worry for little brother.

By: Joyce


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GETTING INTO THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

Getting into the Christmas spirit,
by examining my introspection
and making new plans for the future;
and sparking up your imagination...
could anyone imagine me dressed
as Santa Claus, who never has the minimal time
to watch a log consumed by a crackling fire?
Think again, I could be that Saint Nicholas so bold! 



Prejudice is not a part of this Christmas Season,
all kinds of people, of different ages and races, 
celebrate it; and it may vary from country to country
with traditions as far as Saturnalia or Yuletide...
that was a time when pagans started this festivity,
and with the birth of Jesus, the Christians
adopted these traditions as their own...
so should we object and put them aside?    



Getting into the Christmas spirit,
unpacking decorations for my new Christmas Tree, 
from boxes that waited too long for this day of joy;
and even my toddler, Jack, comes downstairs tripping,
handing me Grandma's favorite star, which
she had hidden away into a treasure chest so jealously,
to place on the top of this forest-scented pine tree...
when we all gather and sing," Silent Night."  



Getting into the Christmas spirit, 
adding, not taking away names from my long list;
and even though these are tough economic times,
I plan to be generous to all without feeling the pinch!
Give the very best of your intentions,
either in gift or in warmest embrace;
give and be content to catch that infant's smile in the distance; 
the tender smile of the Holiest Child, who will give of Himself!  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Red-nosed Roy

Roy is such a jolly ole soul
who enjoys riding mule deer,
helping Santa at the North Pole,
most of all, spreading good cheer.

This year was different,
Santa decided to take vacation.
He informed Roy of this event
inquiring of his participation.

Roy shouted out with glee;
he became very ecstatic.
Calmly, he did agree
not to be such a fanatic.

He wondered what he would drive.
His Harley was in the shop.
How would all the gifts arrive?
He didn’t want Christmas to be a flop.

He thought of Ralph his mule deer
but remembered he couldn’t fly.
Would there be Christmas this year?
How would mule deer take to the sky?

Pounding his head, he had to think;
he couldn’t take Rudolph or the sleigh.
Santa would raise such a stink.
“Nitro jets; he shouted, that’s the way”.

He went to the shop; got to work.
Hammered and nailed, sawed and fussed.
When he was done; turned with a jerk
saying; “I hope it doesn’t combust”!

He strapped Ralph to a huge wagon
all jets ready for the ride.
Ralph lit like a fiery dragon.
Roy’s red-nose a beaming guide.

Parachutes galore fell from the night sky,
dropping one by one at house doors.
Roy happily gave a wink of the eye
and quickly got back to his chores.

Giving the last bundle a kiss, 
Roy sent it on its way.
Happy that he did not miss
and Christmas was not a delay.

I heard Roy shout as Ralph fired away.
“I delivered them all, who needs a sleigh”.

Copyright © 2008 By Caryl S. Muzzey


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Missing You

The Christmas tree is up the decorations all hung
The errands almost completed right on time 
Yesterday it snowed for the first time this winter
All along the eastern coast a winter wonderland 
Long and hard it fell wind- tossed everywhere
Now fine powder- packed and piled twenty inches high!
Today, it is shimmers like fine crystal glistening in the bright noon sun 
Enough to warm your Sunshine but not enough to warm
Her heart as her thoughts again turn to you 
Missing you so! It hurts holding on to that last mail I read 
Again and again I commit to memory every word
I am sending you messages via ESP whispering your name 
Tears flow easy and I am feeling blue 
This Christmas and New Year will be the worst I’ve ever had
Without you here I will not light the fireplace because
I will not see the firelight dance in your brown eyes 
Nor that quirky smile you wear so well as you reach 
To take my hands wanting to dance to Marc Anthony’s “My Baby You” 
Tonight I will light a candle and place it in the window 
Praying that you will see it through your mind’s eye and know that
Just a little way up north you are loved in return just as you are
As always I will be the warmth you feel on your skin
God willing throughout the years to come
I am missing you terribly!


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The Eternal Christmas Plan

For thirty years, God's Christmas plan had culminated into a ministry of Love, Hope even
fear and anger. Masses were fed by little, masses were healed, by but a touch of His loving
healing hand. Yet through all this, there was still fear, uncertainty, guile and betrayal.
Even
those chosen to be His Apostles were weary of Him. Even after all He had shown them,
taught them. Yet He foresaw it all, lamentations, denial, betrayal. Then He was brought
before Pilate
a man not wanting to convict nor imprison. Were the Scribes and Priests the ones who really 
held power? Where was God? Where was His guidance? Where was His Love for His Son?
    Yes God's eternal plan was present, through man to sacrifice His Son, who was willing, for
He understood it must be done, so decreed, Heavenly power fulfilling. To Calvary's Cross,
to suffer such loss, to bury in a tomb for three days, whilst resurrection power had begun to 
tower, stone rolled away from the cave. Among Alleluias from Angels on high, parallel to 
the Gloria's sung on Christmas Day, where in a manger He lay, God's pure infant Son. Full
circle was present, revealed to mankind, Birth to Death from Eternal obedience , from 
manger to cross, the story unfolds, year to year, age to age, still intense, still Celebrated
by those who believe Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. Let us
proclaim the Mystery of Faith........ In the Eternal Christmas Plan........





This is a Collaborative Narrative From Linda Marie ( Sweetheart) Bariana and myself...
Many Thanks Sweetheart for this piece... We hope you all enjoy the read. Merry Christmas
and Happy New Year.....God Bless


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Stormy Christmas Eve

It had been snowing all the day and
the skies were lookin glum.
My mama started crying when
the mailman didn't come.
Tomorrow would be Christmas Day,
Dad said, "I'll ride to town."
He put his warm racoon coat on
and pulled his big hat down.
Then my mama began to fret,
I saw her fingers drumming.
"Do you think that you really should?
I fear a storm is coming."
My daddy said, "I'll be okay
if I am riding Dan.
You know that horse will find the way.
He's smarter than a man.
Then Mama gave him a big kiss
and said. "Now do take care."
She waved him off into the storm
and wiped away a tear.
My mama plucked the turkey
and kept looking at the clock
while little brother prattled on
about his Christmas sock.
The storm was growing stronger and
the light turned into dark,
while I was just a wishing I
would hear old Ringo bark.
Mama lit the keorsene lamp
and started slicing bread.
"I should have told him Christmas
could be late."  I think she said.
But then I heard old Ringo bark
and saw my mama smile.
I knew I'd hear my daddy at
the back door in a while.
That horse of daddy's brought him
safely home through blowing storm.
He said that he was glad to be
back home where it was warm.
Then he said he'd met a stranger
while on his homeward way.
He recognized old Santa Claus
by reindeer and red sleigh.
Santa said he would be happy
to lighten up his pack
and be obliged if Daddy would 
relieve him of plump sack.
Brother and I went to our beds
to wake to a surprise
from Santa Claus, whom our daddy
had seen with his own eyes.

Joyce Johnson

Posted in Cowboy Poetry Bar D Ranch Christmas 2004


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Senior Days

My senior retirement was the completion of a phase in my life,
I discovered my love for writing.

My poems would appear in anthologies,
There for someone else's pleasure.

I would achieve heights difficult to comprehend,
Reaching the William Shakespeare level.

To publish books, a dream come true,
I would invite relatives and friends to read about my experiences.

Knowing I have had very fulfilling chapters in my life,
To continue to discover my love for playing the piano.

My parents' lessons at the Royal Conservatory,
Appreciated at a senior level at teas.

With a repertoire of church,classical,contemporary,popular,and Christmas music,
I would continue to discover crafts, like knitting and making necklaces.

Participated in bazaars and craft sales,
Socially church and choir guested.

To be complimented by good neighbours,
The blessings of being involved with our very own Christmas Choir.

Which sang beautifully complimented with tea and cookies,
I became a hostess with excellence.

Blessed with days with my handsome and beautiful relatives,
Dinning together with exempliary reunions.

A love for fashions as a senior guested,
Beautiful walks along the conservation area.

Slimness is next to Godliness,
Being senior continues to be an excellent passage to tomorrow.

Author Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz


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Midnight Mass

There was a warmth in the snow at Christmas time
Earlier we had finished our last class
Steve asked if we were serving during the holidays
I told him I’d see him at Midnight Mass

About a half-hour walk from my house to the church
On a bitter cold Christmas Eve night
Snow was falling kind of heavy
All the streets were white

We were laughing and sliding going down the hill
The road as slick as glass
Steve fell and broke his glasses
Better not be late for Midnight Mass

We put our cassocks on and got ready
Wait for the choir to sing
The lens was in Steve’s pocket
He couldn’t see a thing

Steve went to the altar 
Where his candle was to be put
When he went to set it down
He missed the altar by a foot

We finished up the service
About one thirty in the morn
And headed home to celebrate
The day that Christ was born

We were only kids then
How quickly the years do pass
I revive the memory each Christmas
While attending Midnight Mass.


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Christmas Dream

This Christmas night ignites a feeling: 

A feeling of innocence & wonder,

Of magic--of fantasy.


As I gaze upon the Christmas tree

I find that child hidden deep inside.

As I look outside the frosted window,

I peer at the snow covered sky:

Trying to find the wonder I once knew;

Watching as each snowflake drifts down from heaven.


As I lie down to go to sleep

I fantasize of the place I once knew.

A place full of toys & candy:

Of blinking lights & laughter.


My eyes were filled with disbelief,

As Christmas morning came

So went my Christmas dream.


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Merry Christmas

 

The tree is made of mostly plastic and metal,
   With blinking lights above its plastic pedestal.
With ornaments of wood, plastic and glass,
   Decorate its branches amass.
A star that twinkles like the one in the sky above,
   Placed gently atop my tree with love.
With presents lying neath its outward branches,
   And children’s imagination as to what are the chances.
They weigh the boxes and gently shake them too,
   Hoping upon hope to just get a clue.
As wrapping paper gets slightly torn, accidental for sure,
   The children look so innocent and pure.
A gift is a gift no matter the price,
   If given from the heart it has to be nice.
With family and friends we gather around,
   This decorated tree where our love will be found.
Before presents are passed out we say a little prayer,
   And thank our Lord and Savior for the love that He shares.
Happy Birthday baby Jesus I heard someone say,
   You are the reason we celebrate Christmas Day.
May peace and joy and love fill your lives on this Holy day,
   And continue to guide you and show you the way!
Merry CHRISTmas to all, it came from a manger filled with hay,
   And gave His life’s blood so we all could receive the Kingdom one day.
Merry Christmas….


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WHAT IF CHRISTMAS ( WAS WITHOUT SANTA THIS YEAR?)

They are so thrilled to see him come around;
riding his sleigh in the deep snow...
laughing and making that jovial sound!
Santa, don't rush downhill, take it slow;
the roads are slippery and the deer are running wild,
don't to crash into them to be there on time!


What if Christmas was without Santa this year,
and his coming was put on hold?
Would the children listen to their mama, so dear, 
when she tells them to go to sleep...
because if they stayed awake for too long:
Santa Clause wouldn't slide down the chimney!


Sleep and you will surely find those gifts on your bed,
but don't expect what you wish for...if you've been bad!
Sleep and dream that he'll tip-toe to your bedroom,
wouldn't you like to peak and make believe you're asleep?
And will Santa not see you wiggle under the sheets and and stoop?
Sleep with joy and dream of what tomorrow could be! 


What if Christmas was without Santa this year,  
all the lights were shut down
in every snowy city and town;
what if no stars twinkled on each adorned Christmas' tree, 
and the church bells stopped ringing?
Wouldn't the sad angels, looking over Jesus, stop singing?  
Come Santa and make everybody happy;
it's not the gifts that matter, but your goodness and laughter! 


Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci


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Yuletide Memories

It didn't seem so long ago that Christmas brought a warmth
A sense of belonging and a spiritual joy
A time for the family, a time for neighbors to stop in
Traditional events unchanging from year to year
A sense of continuity, a warmth from within the heart
The old black and white TV had its share of snow
Alistair Sim played Scrooge and 
There was a Miracle on Thirty Fourth Street
Bing sang White Christmas
It wasn't a Holiday, it was an event, a Celebration
The Birthday of Jesus, the Star in Bethlehem, the Angels
There were Shepherds, Three Kings, a Nativity scene
Silver Bells playing while shopping downtown
Strangers smiled and said Merry Christmas
A genuine feeling of good will.
No other time of the year brought this kind of joy
In spite of low income there was an abundance of food
Cookies and egg nog were made at home
Presents could be opened after church, not before
Children laughing, giggling in anticipation
Heat coming from the old Heatrola in the parlor
Neighbors sharing the good times
Kids playing on the floor in the living room
The smell of pine and spruce in the homes
A time of joy, a time of laughter
A time of peace on Earth.
Merry Christmas Everyone. 


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To Each Of You

My Christmas wish for all of you,
is that your smiles are many, not few.
The path you take, on your journey through life,
will bring you happiness, and your nights be bright.
Velvet will be the cushion, that breaks your falls,
and rainbows of beauty will follow you all.
You will have peace in your heart, that we all search for,
while any shadows that linger, will be gone forever more.
This is my wish to all my friends near, and far,
our distance may be great, but we gaze upon the same stars.
Merry Christmas from the South, to every corner of the world,
each of you are so precious, Soups finest, diamonds, and pearls.