Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


See and share Beautiful Nature Photos and amazing photos of interesting places



Christmas Prose Poetry Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Christmas

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

123
Details | Prose Poetry |

Happy Christmas Poetsoupers

                                                                           Join
                                                                          hands
                                                                        and pray,
                                                                       let there be 
                                                                   light where there 
                                                                is gloom, let there be 
                                                             love where  hatred stalks. 
                                                         Realise hope  when despair 
                                                      overtakes our day, walk in honesty 
                                                   and truth, carry the shadows of kindness 
                                                 and humility throughout your life. Be gentle 
                                             of heart to family and loved ones, be tolerant of 
                                           faith and thoughts of fellow man. Be akin with others
                                         less fortunate than ourselves, be humble in the eyes of
                                        your God. Hold the memories of those passed, distant or
                                     on duty dearly, on this birthday of all birthday's pray for the 
                                    infant child of all nations. Peace and your God be with you all.
                                                                            xxx 
                                                                           Love
                                                                          Peace
                                                                           Hope
                                                                           Faith
                                                  Happy Christmas and a brilliant New Year
                                                                          Daniel                                         
                                                                              xx 












                                    





Details | Prose Poetry |

The Desert near Ajo, AZ

The Desert near Ajo, AZ
Funky town.  Got to go. Drive up a road--couple a blocks from the Plaza. Road curves becomes dirt. Hard dirt—eroded dirt. Not a pleasant place for a car. Out in the desert as fast as walking through a door. Saguaros poked up everywhere. Three types of Chollas threaten. Jumping, Teddy Bear and the tame Cane. The Teddy Bear amused Zelda. She had batches of spines in her mouth and all four feet. I grabbed a rock and knocked them off. I pulled the barbs out accompanied by soft yips. She went bounding away to the next mess of spines. I woke just before dawn everything was rugged, but the sun was not blocked except by the horizon. Warthogs, those instruments of war—were still plying the sky, but they were high, high and could not be heard. Only the birds. Nothing else. Not a thing. My relations with the others are awkward at best. Harry was no problem, but I had a feeling, he was miffed. I know his wife was, as was mine. Something about talking with no concern for others.  “You just go on and on and on. You don’t listen! You are a complete asshole,” Sue said.


Details | Prose Poetry |

Wish

Wish

Seven years I’ve been waiting for
A Christmas with you I wish for
Just like the other years that passed by
My wish for Christmas never gone by

A thought bothered my mind
How do you feel fine?
How do I feel fine?
If it breaks your soul it breaks mine.

Everything you have to sacrifice
A tear drops in your eyes
I wish I could make it dry
But I too can’t stop myself to cry

I hope he will grant my wish
If not now, maybe next year
I would still be waiting here
The same wish that I wished.


Details | Prose Poetry |

A CHRISTMAS GIFT by Anna Lo PH

Holiday Season is almost near
Christmas rush which you can hear
Beautiful lights seen everywhere
It can be felt in the air anywhere..

But still I don't have a Xmas gift for you
I'm not sure if you wanted it too
How I wish I know what to give
Something that you will be appreciative.

I wish I have the magic powers
To make the reindeers run thereafter
As the elves too busy packing
What Santa may carry for you and bring.

I wish I can put Lapland in a box
A place where the Snow Queen rocks
And where Santa and the elves live
Even those reindeers, I wish I can give.

But they're an impossible wish
A wish I hope I can accomplish
A gift I want to give to make you smile
Even just a little and only for a while.

Merry Christmas to you my dear
And A Happy New Year too.. Cheers!


Details | Prose Poetry |

Christ Child

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


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 | Prose Poetry |

Things To Give Away

Tarny was a little bear 
A teddy bear he be 
Coat was as white as snow 
To this we all agree 
. 
Tarny was a Christmas gift 
Given to a lady fair 
Was sent by her Tarnished Knight 
How she wished that he was there 
. 
Tarny wore a little coat 
Where pinned upon his sleeve 
A note from her Tarnished Knight 
Said "will you read me please " 
. 
"Sorry I can't be with you 
On this Christmas day 
I know its very hard for you 
That I'm so far away" 
. 
"So I am sending Tarny 
For you to now embrace 
I will be there very soon 
Then I will take his place" 
. 
"Tarny has a special gift 
He'll make your dreams come true 
Just close your eyes and make a wish 
You will see what he can do" 
. 
Tears now flowed from her eyes 
Squeezing Tarny oh so tight 
Closed her eyes and made wish 
To dream of the Tarnished one tonight 
. 
That was some time ago 
In another Christmas past 
Once there was hopes and dreams 
Somehow they didn't last 
. 
Tarny now is put away 
Never sees the light of day 
Shares a space with odds and ends 
In box of " things to give away" 
. 
Fleece once of snow flake white 
Now has stains of crimson red 
Came from a broken heart 
Oh! how Tarny bled 
. 
So if you find a little bear 
Slightly stained in red 
May not be a teddy 
But this Tarnished Knight instead 


Details | Prose Poetry |

HOLIDAYS IS EVERDAY WHEN AM WITH YOU

your my pride
your my guild
ineed you world wide
without you am so blue
i love you too
HOLIDAY IS EVERDAY
WHEN AM WITH YOU


Details | Prose Poetry |

The Spirit of Christmas

John and Bath, short for Bathsheba Adams, were quite a pair.  Nothing ever got them down, except maybe an occasional cold.  Even then she would take hers out into the cold winter day of the back parking lot of the slum tenement building.  Where, there, she would nudge three of the fifteen cats trying to climb her double tattered blue jeans, out of the way, in order to stand and offer her cold up to God, seeing that it was all she had to offer Him and really she would be grateful, as well as giving up her only possession.   She often asked God why He didn’t seem inclined to come and keep them company, because she believed in Him heart, body and soul and talked to him constantly because John just got tired of listening.  She and John loved each other and no other.  She hadn’t worked steadily in Lord knows when.  John on the other hand got hurt on the job just before he was vested in company rights and the pitiful settlement he received was long gone.  He was left as barely good company for Bath, telling her over and over to just wait ‘til “he gets back on his feet” literally.  But that is not an option any longer, so Bath feels the need to keep him company. They really only had what you might call one vice.  That being because you might say they were wasting good money for no good reason.  They religiously bought two, one dollar lottery tickets every day that passed.  Well, there it was, the day before Christmas and Bath didn’t have money but for one ticket.  Well, she hotfooted down through Chinatown because there were still barbers there who would buy hair and she wanted to give John a special lottery ticket for Christmas.  The deal done she was cold as the mischief and begging God not to let her sinus get worse as she headed through the light rain for those lottery tickets.  John, meanwhile was hobbling down to get his ticket.  She always insisted that he walk to the corner himself so if he won he would feel like he had bought the ticket.  The rascal stopped and sold his crutch.  Can you belive, for $1 he sold his crutch.  Well, to cut to the chase, some friends carried him home after he bought the ticket.  Beth came in and after a bowl of soup, they had a prayer and wished each other merry Christmas and exchanged the two tickets which were the gifts.  Well, my story ends here.  I'm not going to tell you one or both won the lottery.  But in the spirit of Christmas I will say they lived quite long, and they were very happy while they lived. 


Details | Prose Poetry |

Dear Sarah and Samantha

Dear Sarah and Samantha, 


It’s been a while I know * since I happened by your house in the Christmas snow.

I used to drop off presents on wintry Christmas Eve, * scoff a sherry and mince pie then 
hurriedly we’d leave. * We wouldn’t want to get espied by chigglers such as you * and any 
way the night was long with lots of work to do. * How I miss those mince pies from you guys 
and gals, * and carrots for Old Rudolph and all his reindeer pals.

But children do get older and sometimes even doubt * Santa Claus’ existence. “There’s no 
such thing” they’ll shout; *  and in truth I do confess to you assistance I enlist * from miles 
and miles of mums and dads to purchase all your gifts. *

But all I wished to say to you now that you are grown * is I’d be glad to help you when 
you’ve chigglers of your own.

Feel free to write on their behalf, Sarah and Samantha. * I’m always here to give my help. 

Merry Christmas, 


Santa.


123