These Childhood Christmas poems are examples of Christmas poems about Childhood. These are the best examples of Childhood Christmas poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
An acorn wreath hung above his bed
In an old matchbox he laid his head
One magical night on Christmas Eve
Chester the mouse rolled up his sleeves…
“There is something I must do!”
”I will pray for this family who shares their house
God will hear my prayers even though I’m a mouse!
He hopped from his bed and knelt to pray
One tiny request for Christmas day”
“Dear God in heaven,
Tomorrow as I celebrate Jesus’ birth
And your great sacrifice upon this earth
Remember this old house on Mulberry Street
Where a six year old girl has little to eat
I combed through the cupboards to share some crumbs
When she spied my gray tail she began to run
What else can a little mouse do
so her mother can prepare some Christmas stew?
Ps. You should hear her stomach growl, God.
Please watch over this house
Your humble mouse,
A gray silhouette hopped into bed
With images of Bethlehem in his head
While humming his favorite Christmas tune
He believed his prayer would be answered soon
This poem was written exclusively for Gail Doyle's Contest~
Christmas in July/Christmas Magic
Snow sprinkles the ground
as delicate as sugar
crystallizing the exterior with a romantic heritage
only found in the heart of a child's imagination.
Like happiness it can melt in your hands,
and like happiness it can grow bitter like the ice you slip on
Forming miraculously to the curves of the earth
hugging till the land soaks in it's providence
white like the pages I battle with
Falling so passionately you'd think it was falling in love with the ground
And when it lands,
A blanket of perfection
glistening the season to a crisp
gently the sun arises
"there's no where to go today,
I'm just going to sit and enjoy the magic."
Trevor, Wendy and Sheila they all lived next door
Then there was me and that made us four
We all sang in St Peters church choir in my village home
On Christmas Eve we sang carols as round the village we would roam
We sang at every door in the village on that night
Wishing all a merry Christmas as they turned on their porch light
We sang the entire carol every single verse
Though sometimes the snow would just get worse and worse
All the money that we raised went to Overley Hall
To help keep the place open a benefit to all
Our last carol of the night was always at the York’s
He and his missus couldn’t they half talk
She would play piano and we would sing along
He would sit by fireside joining in the song
After we had finished they showed us to the door
With cake and fruit and a donation even though they might be poor
They had no children of their own so enjoyed our carol singing
We always left with words of thanks and exaltations ringing
We would find our way home it would be after ten
We used to count the money gat ourselves warm and then
They would go home back to the house next door
I would go up to my room and sleep deep that for sure
We would get up the next day and Christmas day was there
Yet Christmas Eve and carol singing was great for us to share
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.
Once upon a Christmas dreaming
Alphabets of spelling sleep,
Coal and snow plumed shrouded wreaths,
Fantasia minds plunged ever teeming
Distant choral souls redeeming,
Silence weeping, starlight beaming,
Light years bursting solar sheaths.
Whatever lost craved warmth and finding,
Rang the bells and rapped the brass,
Crept a creep of holy stealth,
Midnight chimed, the clock unwinding,
Visual feasts of gospels blinding,
Shadows lifted, ever minding
Love bestowing priceless wealth.
In the veils of crystals falling
Carols gelled with latticed ice,
Knitted pearls of liquid frost,
The songs of Christmas past were calling,
Eerie, wistful caterwauling,
Heaven bent on reinstalling,
Beckoned home whatever lost.
Once upon a Christmas waking
To a world of perfect white,
Love and caring left the grave
And arms wrapped bodies live and shaking,
Purest beauty in the making,
Gifts for giving, gifts for taking,
And all we took was all we gave.
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
( This is a fictional write)
I was a short skinny seven year old boy growing in a town
Believed in fantasies of scary boogie to jolly old red man.
When dad took to see Santa, was worried about naughty list.
On Christmas Eve I went to bed early full with excitement.
Then heard a strange sound coming from the living room
Saw parents carrying toys placing them under the tree.
Returned to bed and where I silently cried myself to sleep.
As if was not enough heard the voices of parents fighting.
Saw Christmas tree torn, toys scattered and dad leaving.
Felt rejection, loneliness, physical and emotional abuse
It was awful and bitterly engrained still in my memory.
When the troubles come, come not single but in battalion.
Sixth place win in:
Contest: My darkest childhood Memory sponsored by Walayee Whitlock
15 December 2010
I was at my age avid for adventure
Played outside home, street as my playground
Every nimiety of joy, I want to capture
Never ran out of game plan to lay down
At that time, robots are in the boom
Voltes V, Mazinger Z, and Daimos, among my favorites
But what most appealing for me to have in my playroom
Is a battery operated toy train with complete accessories
Christmas season is the best time to receive gifts
For a child like me, full of excitement and wishful
Life was hard before, wishful thinking somehow gone adrift
Somehow, someday under the Christmas tree, I’ll find it circling in full
Watch the tiny trains buzzing along the tracks
It’s a fun to place little trees and people in the scene
Reverberating rhythm of horn and its wheels click-clack
Passing by a miniature bridge, tunnels, forest so evergreen
Make up stories for the little people in the scene
Why there are there and what’s happening
Still fresh and playing wildly in my brain
I’ll make it happen on Christmas day with my son mingling
6th place in "TOYLAND" contest
Sponsored by: Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
There was a tree I remember that
Though the house seemed dark I swear.
Father had left us months ago
Now Christmas time was here.
Sister, well, she was only three
and knew not much of presents
I cried for many things that year
one of them loving parents.
On Christmas morning beneath the tree
a special Dolly waited
with joints that moved and eyes of glass
sorrow had abated.
Dolly, well she was an real angel
for she’d brought my Daddy home.
Convinced was I by twinkling eye
and sparkling golden comb.
Magical Dolly with moving hands,
no matter a bit broken,
the token Daddy gave to me
love had truly spoken.