When meanings have been broken,
When your cross has been uncrossed,
When the reasons that you gave me,
In the labyrinth have been lost.
When your house has been emptied,
When your bedroom is swept clean,
I will come and wake you,
From your long and endless dream.
more at http://labyrinthoflies.com
Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013
Is it Christmas everywhere?
Christmas parties and stuffed teddy bears.
Songs of merry Christmas delight.
Snow covered rooftops glowing at night.
Gifts of sparkling diamond rings.
Christmas memories and special things.
Holiday feasts and decorated doors.
Chocolate covered cherries, Oh! Give me more.
Trips to the mall to buy gifts galore.
Paying with plastic I depleted my stash.
Let us make a loan I need more cash.
Is it Christmas everywhere?
Are you sure without a doubt?
Because some poor child this Christmas will be without.
Give hope and love.
Give prayers and faith.
For those lonesome people on this Christmas day.
Is it Christmas eerywhere?
With war overseas?
People dying and starving,
and no shoes to cover their feet.
Is it Christmas everywhere, with so much poverty?
Families who go hungry, with nothing much to eat.
What about the homeless and natural disaster stricken lands?
It would make this Christmas merry for the wealthy to lend a hand.
With death and crying, and cold and mourning,
an unfortunate road to a path with no glory.
Oh! What a very sad Christmas story.
My home is my castle that shelters me,
but don't forget the homeless that beg on the street.
So, make this Christmas merry if you're able to give.
Share your heart with someone and allow them to live.
The best Christmas will be without a doubt,
God will bless you for giving to those who are without.
Copyright © shannon farlouis | Year Posted 2010
In eternity past, the Father asks the Son to go down.
Having equal Love for humans the "Yes" comes fast.
When Creation leads to time, the world waits for 4 BC
Marking the start of the end of Satan's long rule at last.
Did Satan laugh at the poor setting for Jesus' birth here?
A cry in a cave for animals pierces the night, changing all.
Shepherds worship; later wise kings give precious gifts.
Mary and Joseph marvel, yet Herod's rage soon gives a call.
A call to leave quickly to Egypt where they'll live as refugees.
Sparing the Christ child a merciless death of those under three.
When Herod finally dies, Jesus' parents head back to Israel.
Still not fully safe from mad rule, Nazareth is their destiny.
Here the child will grow to be a man, following His parents rule.
Surprising the Pharisees with His wisdom at 12, at 30 riling them.
Preaching with authority, healing the incurable, loving the humble.
Women weep repenting at his feet; one's healed by touching his hem.
Zacchaeus risks going into a tree and finds Jesus' salvation so free.
Nicodemus comes at night to ask and ends amazed he's met God's Son
The Woman at the Well gets far more vital water than the usual kind.
And many healed can't but tell others of the miracle God has done.
The babe in the manger now stills the storm and his disciples believe
Even seeing the dead arise, like Lazarus in the tomb for four days.
Foretelling a greater rising coming but not before immense suffering.
The sword Mary was told would pierce her heart is soon on its way.
For most religious leaders cannot tolerate Jesus' lack of respect for them.
Calling them whitewashed tombs and pointing pride out to Pharisees.
Not endearing Himself with the establishment, but following God's way.
Knowing soon He'd be betrayed, arrested, tried and tortured brutally.
Still, he calmly feeds them body bread and blood wine in a final feast.
Tells them the Spirit comes, and prays they'd be one like Father and Son.
Heads to the Garden, prays to His Father for another way if possible.
Your will be done ends and the soldiers come and with Judas kiss it's done.
The most pure, innocent Man who's ever lived is now in hostile hands.
A trial by dark without witness or any rights – and off to Pontius Pilate.
Then Herod then back to Pilate whose wife dreamed Jesus was innocent.
But the people's cries to crucify win over – Jesus caught in intrigue's net.
The child of Bethlehem now hung on a Cross between two criminals.
The Light of the World by darkness and our sins is being slowly slain.
Feeling forsaken by God, but then "Into Your hands I commit my spirit."
Reunited and soon to show the world that this Child was no ordinary one.
Risen as Jesus predicted, for how can death conquer everlasting, perfect life?
From childhood to adult not one sin, not once yielding to Satan's temptations.
Proving we can have life eternal if we confess and believe in Jesus as our Savior.
Calling His followers in risen form to await the Spirit and share Christ to the nations
Copyright © Scott Bronner | Year Posted 2012
Winter winds blow all around.
I’m astonished by the sounds of Jingle Bells and reindeer stomps.
All of this should never stop.
Snow lies on the ground, if only that weren't too profound.
Time only leads to decay, but not on Christmas, not today.
You should see the angels pray.
Toy trains, and rag dolls are the things kids used to want.
But time has changed, yes so have children…
Santa seems as if a villain.
So much fighting, so much crying, it sounds as if the kids are dying.
“I want money, I want fame, and these toys are just so lame.”
But that’s the product we provided.
Second chances are no more, Santa’s plot we wait for.
He’s sick of this, he doesn't care, it’s as if he’s not wanted here.
He gets ready to take it all back….
There’s still one toy left in his sack, it’s for a little girl, half a world away.
Now how could he have missed this, on the perfect Christmas day?
He turns around, not time for war.
This toy, the girl is waiting for… It’s not a toy like you’d expect.
She didn't ask for electronics, or stupid games such as Sonic.
She just wanted one small thing…
She’s waiting for something EXTRA special this gloomy day.
In a bed she sits and stares, at the window near a chair.
She’s so weak, and all alone.
She doesn't even have a real home, not where there are bright lights anyways.
They've decorated a weeping willow, the only tree around the “home”.
So she has lights to see.
It’s Christmas after all, but there’s no way to calm the raging sea.
She’s dying, it won’t take much longer, and she doesn't care about the tree.
She needs a new heart extra bad.
So, Santa’s bringing her the one thing, that will stop her parents from being sad.
He rushes to the hospital in his golden sleigh, and climbs right down the vent,
He’s saving Christmas today.
Santa rushes in just in time, finds a doctor, the girl is dying.
It’s not what he usually does, but he stays and watches as they save her life.
He waits for her to wake up.
“Santa, you saved my life, oh thank you so much! I needed my heart to be touched.”
He just smiles, and kisses her hand. He’s so glad he didn't destroy the land.
Christmas is still a special day.
There’s no more sorrow, no, not today. Santa smiles though some are still ungrateful.
There’s that one child, standing in the snow, her life can now be started in the evening glow. That’s life for the grateful, loving, caring, and the thankful. Most of the time Santa just gives toys. For all the good girls and boys. But not today, and not tomorrow, once a year he gets rid of sorrow. So sleep tight and say your prayers, Christmas time is but once a year.
Copyright © Deanna Schaub | Year Posted 2012
Day by day we perceive the blesssings of the Lord,
The snowy day that reminds us about the blessings of warmth and friendship,
Friendship that is distant and always remembered,
Miracles that are difficult to define,
A church and portals that you used to visit,
Structures beautiful, unique and powerful,
Hymns sung and bible verses read,
Choirs where the bells ring and the songs are sung,
Ministers preaching the wisdom of God,
Relatives forever loved and protected by the Lord,
Blessed reunions and visits redefined,
Talents shared and appreciated,
The Lord's poet blessed by God's friendship,
Athletic strength as a senior guided by God,
Royalty sacred and divine, a blessing to mankind.
Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz
Copyright © Gwen von Erlach Schutz | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries.
Epochs apart, yet,
bound by conscience,
Enduring the whispers of time,
through creeds professed,
and a million sins confessed.
of these banished revolutionaries,
is ceremonially muted by ritual,
and gleefully crushed under,
that serve Religion Inc.
"And the meek shall inherit the earth",
an incendiary thought,
for the pie in the sky that must be sought.
The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
for us to hear,
through the din of the cacophony of prayer.
The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
each day that we choose,
to shun the meek,
and mouth conscience-salving prayers,
for yet more silver,
and yet more silk.
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
Please! Please, dont BUY a christmas gift.
I will NOT accept.
But gladly, I will, swift and true, a gift created, just by YOU.
A cuddle, a kiss, a drawing too.
Time shared, you see right through.
Love leaves rainbow residue.
Copyright © Heydon Bunting | Year Posted 2010
o’er alabaster Angels
Wreathes of holly
Wrapped round a morose marble God
At times I’m charmed
By thoughts of Gods and Angels…
And yet at other times
I find religion rather odd
Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic | Year Posted 2014
They searched for it in a Christmas tree, Christmas sock,
chimney, between the Christmas cards, but couldn’t find it…..
They went out and split the Snow Man
into two, but it wasn’t there;
“It has a funny way of playing hide and seek in such a serious day for celebration,” they quipped in their thoughts.
Little did they know that the Christmas Spirit was sitting
in their hearts, waiting to be discovered, and shared
to other seekers.
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2013
out in the pasture sits a church
homemade by brothers hands and filled with dirt
given to Mother so it stops her hurt
decorated each Christmas for what's its worth
as Mother lays down the cotton skirt
out comes the angels the manger and baby Jesus without a shirt
next comes her towering soldiers buried into the dirt
holding their swords that really can hurt
strewn lights gazes upon the pasture's dirt
frozen in time like a star that shivers and quirks
Mama's eyes glistens like fireworks bursts
for all her effort and time even when she hurts
as mother kneels in front of her church
she praises baby Jesus for all he's worth
comes in from the cold and winters bursts
gathers the children as they all look at her work
and tells us the story of a Christmas birth
as we sip on hot chocolate and felt the hurt
of how Jesus died for our sins on this earth
as we wiped our tears with our night shirts
I was glad to run out and relight the candles burst
and give baby Jesus one more kiss and fix his grass skirt
Tribute To Nativity Scenes
Merry Xmas All
Love Kathy And Jenny
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2008
A smile from a friend cheered my spirit,
And then we chatted about the season;
Then another smile caught me with it,
He must’ve smiled for a good reason.
He gave an invitation into his office,
And although he was much older,
We had similar hobbies and a vice,
Snooker, and I had a roaring whir.
He was the only atheist at the school,
Apart from one another, far away,
So I appreciated his view of yule,
And at Christmas passed by his way.
And at Uni I asked the friends I liked,
Into my room for a chat and a coffee,
When we’d reminisce past Xmas’s liked,
And disclose our presents for the tree.
James used to read the xmas story,
To me from the bible, chronologically,
I mean, first Matthew, then Luke’s glory,
Then Matthew again, then Luke to see.
‘Cos mum would make us read the bible,
Together at Christmas time, irksomely,
So we used our minds to suss the fable,
And read it sanely and intelligently.
James never let on about my question,
Of the consistency of the four gospels,
Since I was too young for that objection,
Which analysis and thought dispels.
So I’m not confused at the nativity,
Or numbed by the repeated interlude,
Given each year with naive brevity,
About a working man’s tale, crude.
So I love my friends at Christmas time,
Have discourse and exchange opinions,
About what’s happening and what crime,
Is topical, we have communications.
Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015
The Last Day
The first day is like an unwrapped mystery
Christmas, birthday, holiday present
Oxygen and nitrogen fills the air with freshness
Like news, wet ink from press, unread paper and baby’s breath
The second day is like an unmade bed and breakfast
The sky opens up at high noon for business, middle life
Half time, savory centered, comes with existence, full flavored
Balance takes on the order of the day, remains, saved
The last day is like charcoal grays washed away with rain
Colors fade, grains of sand dance out the counted hours
Doomsday is right around the corner casting shadows
Let’s keep it there, under wraps, under the Christmas trees of past
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
As Christmas morning dawns
And children wake with yawns
Excitement permeates the air
With nary a worry or a care
While miles across both land and sea
Other children pray and plea
As anguish haunts their waking day
To weak to laugh, to frail to play
Those well fed children, some obese
With gifts a plenty, several apiece
Crowding round the Christmas tree
Happy, joyful, so carefree
While other children, worlds apart
With empty stomach and aching heart
Gathered round an empty pot
Despair, hungry amid stench of rot
Those healthy children with toys and stuff
Some spoilt brats that have enough
Often whining, wanting more
With gifts a plenty by the score
While suffering children without food
In shabby huts both stark and crude
Complain not once about their plight
Yet from so little derive delight
So while we run around demented
Stressing about which gifts to buy
Perhaps it is best that we relented
And asked ourselves to question why
And when we talk of Christmas cheer
Perhaps we ought to shed a tear
And spare a thought to those without
Is this not what Christmas is all about!!!
Copyright © Marilyn Clarke | Year Posted 2006
I'm still enjoying the gift. Praise God! Christmas is not over for me. I'm still shouting
in victory not for the gifts under the tree but due to the fact that God so loved me that gave His only begotten Son to me. Do you want to enjoy and celebrate Christmas 365 for the rest of your life? Read John 3:16. "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosever believeth in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life." God gave you a gift. God gave one to me. Did you open it, or is it still sitting there unwrapped waiting for you? I can only advise you to open it by saying this:” O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that
trusteth in him.” God loves His children tremendously so He gave us the gift of life
and life more abundantly by giving us His son with a mission to save us all by dying
on the cross at Calvary. He was conceived immaculately and was born to heal the
hearts that are torn. He lived on the planet earth and performed His first miracle at
a wedding. And he performed many more in his life and still is right now. He knew
His purpose He died and rose on the third day with all power of the earth and
heaven in His hands so that you, me, your family can finally walk in destiny and live
eternally. Yes forever be alive. I love my gift. It took me awhile to unwrap it, but as
soon as I did my life is not the same. I’m still enjoying the gift. Christmas is not over
for me. I’m still shouting in victory for the gifts under the tree but due to the fact
that God so loved me that gave His only begotten Son to me. Yes He came with a
mission for all of us to be forever alive. That is why I celebrate Christmas 365.
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosever
believeth in Him shall not perish nut have everlasting life." John 3:16
” O taste and see that the Lord is good: blessed is the man that trusteth in him.”
“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life
and have it abundantly.” John 10:10
Copyright © Nicole Sharon Brown | Year Posted 2010
Rudolf got his big red nose
From Vixen in the snow
They had it out one foggy night
Beneath the mistletoe
She bopped him once good and hard
Which caused his nose to grow
She bopped him twice around the yard
His nose began to glow
Then she buffed it bright and red
So everyone would know
Rudolf got his big red nose
From Vixen in the snow
Copyright © Mike Martin | Year Posted 2015
Another holiday season.
Lots of success.
Legacy being built.
People may hate on me.
Refuse to let them shake me.
All things work together for my good.
In Your plan for my life.
Seeds being sown.
Everyday is a winding road.
So, I’ll roll with the punches.
Tough days I had this year.
Owe mighty praises to You mighty Father.
You helped me do things that I never thought I could do.
Only You are the key to prosperity. You Father,
Unlocked the doors that I had locked due to my negativity.
Copyright © Nicole Sharon Brown | Year Posted 2009
Snow fell down one starless night
From out the plume of lonely clouds,
To decorate the land with white,
Adorn the hills with pallid shrouds.
The eyes that gleamed behind the glass
Watched the weather rage outside,
Saw the darkness come to pass,
Filled with wonder, saucer wide.
Then from the ether, from the swirl,
Through a split in clouded night,
A silver shaft impaled the world,
And lit the earth with vibrant light.
Upon the eve before the day
Iconic magic rose and shone,
At once the darkness cast away,
A Christmas star to wish upon.
In modern times of strife and war,
When hatred reigns a harsh regime,
It ill behoves us to deny
Our children of a better dream.
So on the eve before the day,
Make the demon year be gone,
And teach them of a better way,
Of Christmas stars to wish upon.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
Spirits burning bright in the glow of fire light,
Reflected in the ruby sheen of port,
By the crystal gleam of glass, counting seconds as they pass,
Finds the day and its’ dominion growing short.
Spirits burning bright in the velvet drape of night,
Shining on the baubles in the pine,
In the stars of red and gold, flecks of time seem to unfold
As the tinsel drips in dazzling design.
Spirits burning bright, soaring higher than a kite,
Far above the smoky rooftops clad in snow,
Smiles on lips of children spread as they settle down in bed
Dreaming dreams of things that only children know.
Spirits burning bright, incandescent, silver-white,
In a world allowed a chance to mend its ways,
Will the day just come and go, wherein time once more will flow,
Leaving fading thoughts of all our yesterdays?
Spirits burning bright in a clamour to unite
All humanity to learn from what has gone,
And put the past to rest, hoarding nothing but the best,
Dreams of peace to build a better world upon.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
Surrender, sweet Madonna, softly moaned,
In the luscious bud the atoms groaned;
Skin incandescent, hiding one
Most beautiful, euphoric son.
Then laughing, knowing, out of sight
Beneath the purple roof of night,
Beneath a behemoth umbrella sky
A host of angels sang on high.
The wind crooned as the sweetest flute,
A wordless poem stricken mute;
Held fragrance fragile, nectarine,
Rose on the evening evergreen.
The cribs where gurgling babies lay
Fell silent, keeping wolves at bay,
All breath of infants held and bated,
All powerful Gabriel awaited.
The wings of pigeons in the straw
Unruffled, anchored to the floor;
Their heads bowed reverently down
To honour he who wore the crown.
Like hermit crabs emerging out
Of clouds of fast dispersing doubt,
The congregation would believe
A king was born this hallowed eve.
Their spirits soared in setting free,
Exalted wild epiphany,
They reeled and danced in Heaven's cloud,
Most joyous laughter laughed aloud.
In giddiness from life and love
Fell joy and freedom from above,
Remorse thus banished to the past,
And beauty, passion ruled at last.
Upon this night new hope was born
Unto a world of hate and scorn,
To loneliness, to fight, to lead,
To death, to ultimately bleed.
It keeps on truckin' through the age,
The story of the saviour sage,
Who chased the sun and showed mankind
There was a greater good to find.
For life laughs with us if we try,
Or shuts it's eyes and rushes by
If we refuse to help a brother
And cease in caring for each other.
The rhythm of the heart in words
Is poetry with ease unheard,
Yet it still strives to illustrate
We are not merely slaves of fate.
This day we praise his destiny,
Vocation-charged like energy,
His sacrifice, the gifts he gave,
Eternal life beyond the grave.
Thus celebrate of all these things
That honour, duty, glory brings;
To know the meaning of the birth,
To know that God has walked the earth.
Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2005
It's Christmas eve,
And I'm alone...
In a place I feel,
Is not my home
I feel neglected,
I feel quite sad,
Christmas was once,
The best time I had...
It grew dark,
I felt a need
For fresh air,
I opened the door,
So much wishing,
I had someone
With whom love
I might share..
No, I didn't hear
Jingle bells, nor
A sleigh in the air,
And I felt so depressed,
I didn't really care,
But something led
Me to look up,
In the sky,
And I don't know how,
And I don't know why...
I gazed at thousands
Of lovely stars,
Struggling with all their might,
To pierce the gloom,
Of such a cold winter's night...
And, this, I swear,
They achieved so gloriously,
It shed my gloom,
And made me see...
So more impressive
Than Santa Claus,
And all he may be...
My heart was swollen,
In majestic wonder,
More impressive than,
The loudest thunder...
I was but a small
Piece of this cosmic realm,
But as valid and important,
As he who steered the helm
So the meaning of Christmas
Finally came to me,
It was not a thing,
I would expect it to be...
It was an acknowledgement
Of our eternal unity...
It was far more awesome...
Than the deepest sea...
I sleep much better now,
Cause something came,
And showed me how,
To accept being a part
Of the whole,
And live within...
The eternal now...
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2007
Carols, gift-giving and get-togethers
Fills the season a hopeful air;
As people show their better selves
Sharing happiness to fellow men.
The tree lights and sparkling decors
Illuminates this dimming planet;
But none brings more joy and enlightenment
Than the blessings of child Jesus.
Though this season brings its traditions,
Live by heart the timeless story:
The Prince of Peace, Son of God,
Born in a dark and quiet manger.
Copyright © Ryan Webster Casquejo | Year Posted 2015