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Home Christmas Poems | Christmas Poems About Home

These Home Christmas poems are examples of Christmas poems about Home. These are the best examples of Home Christmas poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Kyrielle | |

This Special Time of Year

We may not have a "White Christmas", yet joy remains the same I find delight in viewing candles reflected on frosted panes They remind me to be grateful for warmth and light so near Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year A scenic view of white smoke rising from the chimney tall Dainty snow flakes falling as kids roll them into balls They sail against blustery winds and I wonder how they dare! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year Sweet music heralding peace, urges hearts to spread some joy! Displayed is a wooden Nativity Scene to greet you at the door A glittering tree with twinkling stars stands proudly at the rear! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year Fresh pine garlands dress stair rails with large red velvet bows The aroma of cinnamon and pine saturates, delighting one’s nose While a cozy wood fireplace glows, inviting, daydream stares Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year The baking’s almost done; and tons of sweets are ensured Though, there will not be any Christmas pudding this year, for sure Mama’s been gone home a while, yet the many memories linger here Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year Whatever may happen in life, Christmas joy lives in the heart A warm home and loving hearts have sufficed from the start Much food, drinks and good conversation; lots of fun to share! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year “Less formal” is my style preferred, so do relax if you please Sit on the floor, take off those shoes; dance or just be a tease When you feel stuffed and need a nap, if you snore, have no fear! Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year ~*~


Details | Rhyme | |

Christmas Carols

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 


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Family Grief Family Happiness

  
   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 ~    
                       
              


Details | Free verse | |

Christmas home decor- a wreath poem-N

Christmas home decor

Short and round is our Christmas wreath
Wreath we made of the tree branches
Branches are tied with the red ribbons
Ribbons stuck with berries,ready is the wreath.

Wreath is placed on our door’s foot steps
Steps away is the snow on tree not far
Far away, look, how He laid His holy hands
Hands on things He wants us to see and praise.

Praise him, be quick your voice to raise
Raise your hands his love to receive 
Receive love in your every choice forever
Forever on Christmas with this decor wreath.

====================================

This type of poetry was first introduced by George Herbert, a contemporary
of Shakespeare. There are two ways to write it. In above poem, the last
word of the first line is the first word of the next line and so on. Or one
may use any word of the first line as the first word of the next line. Variations
of the word can also be used.


Details | Kyrielle | |

“Welcome to my Home”

Special welcome friend, come right in to my place of quiet serene. 
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.
Of Master’s love and your’s my friend  of wisdom’s grace may I glean,
 As we dismiss St Nicholas myth this Christmas season’s cheer.

Three water pots filled of water be ready, heart, soul and mind.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.
Welcome is thy mouth,  of abundant life spout, pour in new wine.
We shall drink and be merry, wine of Sharon, on midnight clear.

Bright eyed of Christ mass, humbled children, these special gifts I would, 
welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.
I would this season of bliss would kiss, as the brotherhood should.
Often blossoms love and kindness in this blessed season cheer.

My humble dwelling my log cabin near lively stream of life,
welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.
Where the Lamb and Lion lie together having not any strife.
By  the virgin void my home serene came on a midnight clear!

Come fish with me in narrow strait beneath arch of heaven’s gate!
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year,
my friends of late let us cleans the slate by dip in narrow strait.
A dip in peaceful river serene clears all the concept’s fear.

Corner stone, concepts rejection the same is heart protected.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year,
`Tis faith, love material erected, though minds rejected. 
Welcome! My eternal Christmas home, of paranormal cheer!

For contest: Holiday Home
Sponsored by Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.C.


Details | Epic | |

young American days


              
                   To be in a young America ~
           visions of a ship upcoming statue of Liberty
               the young lad holding tightly to his Mothers leg
             in all excitement of a new Land to call their own
      celebrations of apple pie and fireworks on the 4th of July 
          
             thoughts of the old Hollywood on screen 
                films without 3-D costing less then a dollar
        Greta , Monroe , Betty Davis eyes tantalizing blue glare
       The Wizard of Oz or books written by Steinbach, Capote, Mark Twain

             exciting new visions of creating new concepts 
                 before Capitalism bought all little ones to bigger
           songs came from the hills of Virginia to the black Mountains
               surfacing in Tennessee for all to hear and wish to see  

          The day when one travelled by car on the road travelled
             every town a story told , learning history we once shed blood 
         American Indian tears to the British man whom choose freedom of taxes
            Boston held a tea party , now wishing they threw out marmite instead
 
         The day when we knew our neighbors and bought homes with a paystub
             Everyone had a chance to make their own with pride , even through wars
        When Martin Luther King stood proudly as did President Lincoln for Freedom 
             How many streets have been named after the man whom had a dream ?

             When milk was delivered on doorsteps in Glass bottles 
                 Babies wanting the very first of the top being cream 
             leaving doors open , watching news with your family at 6pm
                cartoons were shut down and it was now grown up time 

                      Cereal being a cheap snack for after school 
                         school supplies costing twenty dollars 
                      Grandma school clothes shopping for fifty 
                   before the internet , cell phones , and text for hello ~

                         2 week Vacations not afraid to put up Camp 
                Christmas sold in December with the sentiment of Love not money
        a day when if one were sick , you could actually get penicillin without question 
         The Doctor treated everything calling it General Practice no fear of Malpractice 

               Never forgetting our Motor city  
                 Old Ford Trucks Chevrolets and Dodge
                  The city that brought Ottis Reding and Marvin Gaye 
               

                     What happened to us ?  Where did America Go ? 

                   

         
  


Details | Light Poetry | |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

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.


Details | Narrative | |

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


Details | Narrative | |

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.


Details | Kyrielle | |

HOLIDAY HOME - OUTSIDE MY HOME COUNTRY

20 November 2010
By: Noel N. Villarosa

It’s been four years, away from my sweet home during Christmas day
Where I should share the family tradition at twelve and to cheer
To fix my webcam and headphone, and come what may
Welcome to my "Holiday Home" at this special time of year.

My wife and son displaying a warmth in their smile, reaching hands
With sluggish movements and static sound, trying to project it clear
At the peak of use of internet, bandwidth traffic,  I tried to withstand
Welcome to my "Holiday Home" at this special time of year.

My wife with hand-held webcam tried to rotate to tour me inside
They have fixed old Christmas tree and angels as pendant for a bright nightwear
At the base, a glimpse of wrapped gifts with laces soon to be untied
Welcome to my "Holiday Home" at this special time of year.

I can hear voices of children doing their caroling
Barking dogs seem would like to join as their backup singer
My wife whispered to my son, ‘please give these coins as a sign for thanking’ 
Welcome to my "Holiday Home" at this special time of year.

The threshold of a doorway, visitors do come and bringing gifts
The elders incite parlor games with special gifts and cash to stir
Only happened after family went to a midnight mass for spiritual uplift
Welcome to my "Holiday Home" at this special time of year.

A portrait of the Holy Family on the first Christmas eve
Within that stable, baby Jesus was lying in a manger
On Christmas eve, Jesus will visit every home and this is to believe
Welcome to my "Holiday Home" at this special time of year.


5TH place in "HOLIDAY HOME" contest 
Contest Date:  12/16/2010    
Sponsored by: Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.  


Details | Kyrielle | |

Christmas Pinoy Joy

Our cheeks and noses barren from snowflakes, gladly filled with whispers of coconut flakes, falling gently on bibingkas* made dear Welcome to my holiday home this special time of year… Kitchen’s abuzz, humming pots and pans Hamon, embutido and leche flan! Food is happily shared to all who come here Welcome to my holiday home this special time of year… Lights twinkle outside, reflect warmth inside Reunions everywhere where love abides Songs fill the air, voices resonate clear Welcome to my holiday home this special time of year… As day gets ready to embrace the sun, church bells toll gladly, dawn Mass has begun True meaning of Christmas touch hearts and ears Welcome to my holiday home this special time of year… Bright light now fills skies but a star reigns free As parols** adorn homes, big or tiny to show the way to homey atmosphere, Welcome to my holiday home this special time of year… Problems forgotten even for a while, hope and love take center stage, bright with smiles Family and friends just alive with cheer, Welcome to my holiday home this special time of year! --Pinoy is a slang word for Filipino :) * bibingkas—rice cakes—we have a whole slew of rice cakes here, but the most common garnish for these would be grated coconut; bibingkas in particular is sort of like a thick pancake cooked in banana leaves, made with rice flour and coconut milk—can also be topped with cheese & salted egg ---the other foreign sounding words here hamon (ham); embutido is something like these small log-shaped meatloaf and leche flan is similar to a delectable egg custard- or hmm crème brulee although it’s cooked with the caramel at the bottom and inverted upon serving so it has its own caramel sauce instead--oh yummy ** Parol is a typical Filipino Christmas lantern, usually hung outside homes and have lights inside--can even be multi-colored—to signify the star of Bethlehem- they come in the simplest kind (made with bamboo sticks & paper/plastic) to the most intricate ones made out of capiz shells Nov 26 2010 –for Linda’s Holiday Home contest :)


Details | Light Poetry | |

The Bowing Tree

We were so pathetic our first year of marriage. They say that being poor builds character, maybe that explains it. 
 

We were married way too young to ever have much money, The thought of spending for a Christmas tree seemed to be too funny. We decided that we would do without to save cash on which to live, Because the cost of even a meager tree was more than we could give. One night on my way home from work I followed a tree barring truck, A pothole hit and a tree flew off it seemed I’d had some luck. I took it home to my new bride and the sight lit up her eyes, She decided to make decorations for this Christmas tree surprise. So while I went to find a stand, she started to pop some corn, She took a needle and threaded them and soon the tree adorned. She cut out cardboard stars and bells in foil they then got covered, I set the tree up in its stand and that’s when a problem was discovered. There was something wrong with the trunk of our little Christmas tree, It curved so badly that when it stood up it made the letter “C”. Without some help it couldn’t stand so to the top we tied a rope. To the closet rod it got fastened to hold it upright was our hope. When the door to the closet slid shut tight the tree stood proud and tall, With its aluminum decorations and popcorn strands it really had it all. When we opened the door to get our coats the rope would always slack, And the little tree would bow to us and we would bow right back. Many years have passed since then and now our house is full of trees, But none of them are as polite as our first that was so eager to please.


Details | Ballade | |

That sad, sad Christmas day

Inspired by Andreas contest, though in ballade form. not for contest.

That awful Christmas day

The sun was shining bright outside
Christmas day was here
We’d all enjoyed our Christmas lunch
Then drank some wine and beer
Everyone wore happy smiles
It was that kind of day
When everyone was filled with cheer
And the atmosphere was gay.

Then we smelled that acrid smoke
It was heavy in the air
I looked outside and fear hit me
The flames were everywhere
A fire had started in the bush
And now it was upon us
Everyone was in blind panic
Creating such a fuss

All of us fled from the house
And gathered there outside
As the fire devoured our lovely home
I was stunned, I could have cried
For nothing could be done at all
The firemen came too late
On that sad, sad Christmas day
Much fear life did create.


Details | Shape | |

Christmas Experience

                                                 The Christmas Tree                                                 


                                                     Angels divine


                                                 The many branches


                                            Favorite spruce and pine boughs


                                             Home made popcorn garlands


                                           A beautiful tall evergreen tree


                                       The many bright lights twinkle brightly


                                Spheres of the rainbow coloured balls and pretty bows  


                               The ringing of golden bells on the exquisite tree branches


                         Many home made decorations cookies and candy canes and cakes  


                     The tall nutcracker nearby standing tall beside the beautiful christmas tree



                                                 Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz





Details | Rhyme | |

Christmas Eve In A Foxhole

'Twas just him and his thoughts in that cold and lonely hole,
Awaiting the sergeant's dreaded muster to begin the night's patrol.
For days the weary soldier had been on the line in bitter battle,
'Midst the deafening roar of cannon and the musket's steady rattle!

'Twas Christmas Eve and he was far from home in Afghanistan.
He was barely eighteen years old but had quickly become a man.
In the fading light he read from Luke the story of that Glorious Night,
That gave him hope and warmed his soul despite his precarious plight.

He turned the pages of his Bible to the soothing Twenty-third Psalm,
To read again that beautiful passage - that reassuring message of calm.
A bright star shone over his lonely post reminding him of Bethlehem,
And the star that topped the tree at his home in far away Birmingham.

His thoughts turned to home and better times with his Mom and Dad.
He mused upon Christmases past and the good times that they'd had;
The good food his Mom prepared and presents beneath the tree.
Alas, Christmas dinner this year would be cold coffee and an MRE.

During the lull in battle he saw from afar a winding camel train,
And shepherds herding their bleating flocks across that desolate plain.
Such a peaceful yet poignant scene, he mused, 'midst the gore of war,
Reminding him once again of that first joyous Christmas Eve of yore!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved


Details | Lyric | |

12 days of kiss-mas

On the 12th day of kiss-mass my true love sent to me
12 dirty undies
11 socks a stinking
10 shoes a humming
9 shirts for pressing
8 trousers 
7 days of take-out boxes
6 flagons of beer
5 D V D's
4 mischievous children
3 dozen wine bottles
2 ex partners
and an engagement ring under the tree


Details | Rhyme | |

Coming Home

The full moon glistens on the fallen snow;
He still has a couple of miles left to go,
As he walks on home from the bus depot;
Of his visit there nobody yet knows.

His deployment in Iraq has come to an end;
The Purple Heart hangs on his chest;
Of his shortened tour he told no family or friends;
His left sleeve is pinned to his vest.

The Greyhound bus that dropped him off,
Passes him rolling down the road;
The shrapnel he carries in a chewing tobacco tin,
As he marches along in the dark and the cold.

The long driveway to the house he grew up in,
Has not been shoveled of the snow;
The lights are still on, as everyone within,
Prepares for a midnight mass to go.

They are startled by noises out on the porch,
And wonder at the knock on the door;
They all rush in to see who it is,
As he drops his duffel bag upon the floor.

A one-armed hug isn’t so bad,
On the Eve before a Christmas Day;
When received by a hero son
Who’s been missed ever since he went away.

They all went to church with tears in their eyes;
One family of thousands of more;
Overjoyed by a wonderful Christmas surprise -
A soldier coming home from the war.


Details | Heroic Couplets | |

THE STATIONERY BOY

THE STATIONERY BOY

His little dark street
Is at home in the silky cobweb;
His little dark street
Is only loud in the missionaries’ prayers,
It elicits a gaze in very few people,
It is but an uninvited guest to life.

The stationery boy hands out his beautiful fliers,
Like a messenger of his little dark street.
In his big clear eyes a tear is born,
Not as an accusation,
But as wonderful love,
His heart is young and full of hopes
That someday his big silent tear
Shall drop onto someone’s palm.
  
A new day is born in his wonderful spirit,
Perhaps somewhat cold and strange,
But a new day, still.
Oh powerful destiny, listen to your unloved son,
Wake up the sleeping star;
Wake up the sleeping sun;
Wake up the sleeping hearts of men,
So that the new day may be a friend to your unloved son.
  
In the inaudible shadows, he has his faithful listeners,
In death he has a faithful visitor,
His young beautiful eyes are more familiar with death than life.
When so many happy children gather around the city’s Christmas tree,
His dear young heart is loudly beating into the deaf nights,
Like a silver bell,
So that his small, dark home would be alight with a gaze.
  

When the wonderful northern wind brings
Happy children’s voices from afar,
Like a modest Christmas gift,
The stationery boy is building his little kingdom of happiness
In his vivid imagination,
His days and nights may be cold and dark,
But his imagination is bright and completely wonderful,
It shines in the darkness like an angel.
  
His silver bell is ringing beyond the heavenly dome.
If you want to show a real angel to your kid,
Hurry towards that little dark street,
And you might be lucky enough to see the stationery boy
Before he gets his silver wings.

  
©Walter William Safar
  
  





Details | Couplet | |

WHY ARE WE HERE

Copyright © 2012 
12/17/2012 
(A Purpose So Clear) 

Like children we fear 
  In secret a somber tear 

Like learning to walk 
 Babies listen to talk 

And reach for a hand 
  To help them stand 

This too, we all must do 
  By HIS Hand made anew 


by: LP


Details | Rhyme | |

A Soldier's Christmas Wish

I'm goin' home for Christmas day,
My favorite time of year.
No matter how long I've been away
It's home that beckons me near.

I want to go where as a child
My imagination played,
A world far away and over the sea
Home for Christmas day.

A place in my heart for old Saint Nick
And the magic of the eve.
I hope I can find the innocence lost
At my home back over the sea.

There is a place for make believe
Where I want to stay,
In the warmth of all I love
Surrounded by Christmas day.



For Gail Doyle's Christmas in July contest July 16, 2012


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I won't be Home For Xmas

I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.

When you abandoned the sweetness
and chased your dream into the alley
When you thought it best to see me cry

When your mind changed with the direction of the wind 
I stood there with spit on my finger tips...
holding my hand in the air,Waiting for the winds of hope
to blow your love and loyalty in my direction

Home is a strange city
where no one knows me.
where no one will invite me to sit across the table
and try to smile as I play with my stuffing on china with flowers
As I remember the children laughing and opening gifts.
I remember the long silent ride back to our house.

I think back when I got on my knees
before climbing into our cold bed 
The prayers just uttered coming back void.
Ask God to just let you touch me again
I needed your body-heat to keep warm.
I needed your support to continue on 
for the sake of the commitment.

For the sake of waiting for love to remind you
Even if pity could hold you there..
I would not be ashamed of what you sacrificed
When love had given birth to pity-
I would have held on without pride.

Now I never want to come back to that town.
Where no one cares that you don't love me.
I am in remission.
Alone but it's OK.
Please tell our future to visit me. 
On the seashores. 
The sun warms me in
my new home 
where no one knows me.
All my old friends are 
dead and dying.So...

I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.

Just my spirit and the ocean.
and one day tell our grandchildren
Grandma will be here walking;
With one finger in the air moistened with spit.
to see which way the wind blows.


Details | Quatrain | |

Twelve Days Of Christmas

Twelve Days Of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, I gave this to PD
A unicorn with its one horn all shiny, his face full of glee
On the second day of Christmas the unicorn was gone
She rang me and asked me if I could maybe get another one.

On the third day of Christmas I unplugged my telephone 
I pretended not to be there, she might think I was not home
On the fourth day of Christmas she came knocking on my door
Come on Goldie she shouted, I am sure you must have more.

On the fifth day of Christmas she gave my door bell five long, long rings
But I didn’t answer it as I had no more of the blasted things
On the sixth day of Christmas I was searching hard for more
I had heard there was a unicorn sale on, but it was some old folklore.

On the seventh day of Christmas my luck came in at last
I found another unicorn but at its very best it was past
On the eighth day of Christmas I sent him directly to PD
She was so delighted she decided to ring and thank me.

On the ninth day of Christmas she sent to me a card
She realised I must have been busy, at a task that was very hard.
On the tenth day of Christmas her unicorn left once more
Poor PD was bereft, she was crying on the floor.

So remember if you love a unicorn so much that it makes you cry
You cannot take him home with you he has his own home to which he must fly.
© 20/12/2012 ~GG~


Details | Kyrielle | |

CHRISTMAS A Holiday home contest

Our holiday home decorated with Christmas bells.
Gingerbread cookies and all those seasonal smells.
The day is filled with Christmas cheer.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.

A Christmas tree decorated in gold and red.
While vision of sugarplum danced in their heads.
The joys of Christmas keep famlies near.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.

A holiday of blessing's and Christmas treasures.
Misteltoe and carolers are a Christmas pleasures.
Please don't cry those Christmas tears.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.

On a special day the son of our Lord was born.
The day of faith,hope comes on Christmas morn.
On this Christmas day we can see so clear.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.

Christmas is the day of our Jesus Christ's birth.
He was born to save us sinners here on earth.
So remember his day and keep it dear.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.

The night before Christmas I read them a book.
We heard a noise and ran to the window to take a look.
Time has passed and Christmas is finally here.
Welcome to my Holiday home at this special time of year.
                         Teresa Skyles/Theoklapoet

Entered in Linda-Marie's"Welcome to my Holiday home"contest.


Details | Free verse | |

Christmas Cometh

Christmas Cometh
by Ingrid Showalter Swift 

Through a wind that never stops blowing
the house holds fast to the light
flickering candles in each window
hope calling out over a canvas of landscape base painted 
in solid white

Auburn gold shadows creep along the horizon
where morning and night crest like waves upon each other
frothing sudden color in thier blending fight

Ruby red undertones flame up across the frost filled clouds 
then die away slowly to golds and then ice gray 
and then moonless white 

in the lights of a passing car... flakes ignite..dazzle and die away again

an owl ...its bright black eyes
against round white face 
calls out 

"ahhhhooooooooooo"
swoops down across the vast field
its feathers struck out white  
like white flames held aloft..........or flashing silver polished metal 
against black forest and gray sky...
against 
the now darkening of night

and I am reminded of a book from my childhood
that read...
"Who.... who... who ....are you?"

The candles flicker on dainty dancers of hope
leaping and falling and leaping again...
so like myself...I have to wonder...
do they never learn? do they never give up?

Turning from the window I smile at all the richness of the bright within
the colors of red and green...
the sparkle of packages and bows not yet even wrapped 
but that will lie beneath my tree in time
the crackle of a wood fire...the smells of pine bows and of things I have collected 
to celebrate these days

and I am merry ...in my soul 
ever hopeful ever believing...ever true
ever listening ......

for your key hit 

hoping it will still come someday...
if I am lucky...perhaps before Christmas has grown cold 
in the hearth and heart once more

the owl calls out again

"Who who ......who are you?"

and I know who I am 
I am a woman who loves a man
and for him I keep on the light
and ration like gold 
the oil


Details | Lyric | |

A Christmas Dream

Over the blasts of mortar shells,
He heard the sound of jingle bells;
And when he closed his tired eyes,
He got a Christmas Day surprise.

Snow was fall’n and his boy was call’n:
“Daddy, can we go down now?
I think it’s clear, Santa’s been here
And Daddy got home some how.
We are a family, Daddy, Mom and me
On this Christmas Day;
I’m with you, my wish came true,
The one to Baby Jesus I did pray.”

From across the world, so far away,
In a foreign land on Christmas Day;
Sleeping with his fatigues still on,
His boy’s voice was a Christmas song.

Snow was fall’n and his boy was call’n:
“Daddy, can we go down now?
I think it’s clear, Santa’s been here
And Daddy got home some how.
We are a family, Daddy, Mom and me
On this Christmas Day;
I’m with you, my wish came true,
The one to Baby Jesus I did pray.”

Please remember our service heroes,
Scattered throughout the world,
As we celebrate with our families,
The good will they hope to build.

He woke up to a flash of light,
And screams resounding in the night;
He charged forward to help his peers;
With his son’s voice ringing in his ears.

Snow was fall’n and his boy was call’n:
“Daddy, can we go down now?
I think it’s clear, Santa’s been here
And Daddy got home some how.
We are a family, Daddy, Mom and me
On this Christmas Day;
I’m with you, my wish came true,
The one to Baby Jesus I did pray.”