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Long Christmas Poems

Long Christmas Poems. Below are the most popular long Christmas by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Christmas poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Franklin Price | Details |

The Night Before Christmas Eve

The night Before Christmas Eve
By Franklin Price
12/17/2016


Prologue

The Night Before Christmas
A most famous of  poems
Read  to children aloud
By their parents in homes

To children who gather
'Round the brightly lit tree
To hear Santa is coming
Presents for you and me

They have been to the mall
And they've sat on his knee
He said have you been good?
Answered: as good as can be!

He said what would you like
Jolly Santa to bring?
Can grant most any wish
Can bring most anything

In the past was a train
Or a two wheeler bike
Or the prettiest doll
I can bring what you like

You may like a computer
With some games you can play
Find it under the tree
At first light Christmas day

Not a wish within reason
That I can't bring to you
After all it is Christmas
That's the thing that I do

Have you been out shopping
For your family and friends?
To give each other gifts
For your elders Depends

Just a bit of humor
Not a good gift I think
Like buying your loved wife 
A brand new kitchen sink

I speak with experience
And will never forget
A sink's not for Christmas
I remember that yet

Like Santa, ask everyone
Make your own gift list too
Of what others would like
That's the best thing to do

Take great joy in shopping 
For the giving is best
A smile Christmas morning
Says your gift passed the test

I've digressed  just enough
It's time to get to the heart
Of what this poem is about
I hope for you, the best part



THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE
 At home near the North Pole
Elves are packing the sleigh
For the merry old soul

The Reindeer are sheltered
In the stable so near
The coming night's weather
To be cold but quite clear

The workshop's still busy
 building last minute toys
To soon be delivered
 To good girls and  good boys

Santa pressing his suit
 Combing his silver hair
He is so very real
 To the kids who still care

Out in the warm stable
The reindeer cannot sleep
No noise they are making
Heard, not even a peep

Santa is looking out
 At the snow coming down
The smile on his round face
 Becomes the smallest frown

The light of the full moon
Is all covered by mist
He may need a reindeer
 With red nose to assist

As Santa is watching
 Moon beams come shining through
Maybe now red nosed Rudolph
 Will have nothing to do

Santa still has to drive
 And could be much less droll
You would think that at least
 He would have cruise control

Satellite positioned 
As he moves on his way
Doesn't follow the stars
As way back in the day

Puts in his computer
Where all children may be
Takes a few terabytes
Of super fast memory

Computer must keep up
In flight Christmas eve night
The sleigh is approaching
Speed of dawn's early light

He must plan his own  trip
With his elves to assist
To bring gifts to each child
 Who appears on his list 

There's Dani and Billy
 and Lily and Belle
So many more children
Than  herein I can tell

Santa goes to each place
Where a child is asleep
Finds a good way to enter
Down the chimney may creep

Just a few years ago
Houses heated with coal
And brick fireplaces
For the Merry old soul

Down the chimney he went
Not always  any more
Where there's central heating
  Enters through the front door

Most children in houses
More than a few are in tents 
He will visit them all
Even trailers with dents

Santa gets very hungry
Every year I will tell
 Some houses have  goodies
Santa follows the smell 

Of new cookies fresh baked
 And milk in a small cup
Can take just  a small taste
 Or he'll never get up

To go out to the sleigh 
And climb up on the seat
It could be the next place
Has more cookies to eat

He will pick up the reins
Give the reindeer a cluck
With the power lines low
 Finds he really must duck

He will look up and down
 To the left and the right
Zoom right to the next house
In the dark of the night

He still carries the toys
In a sack that appeals
Has gotten much older 
Now it's driven with wheels

His bifocals are thicker
Near and far they can see
His teeth are now false ones
He had lost all but three

His white hair's much thinner
Not much left there to comb
  Keeps his cap on his head 
'Til the time he gets home

Not a pipe in his mouth 
As he had long ago
Non smokers don't like it
 And they all let him know

Biggest loser he's watched
 And has lost a few pounds
Six pack he has gotten
 Where he used to be round

Feels so  much better now
 That he goes to the gym 
Does not quite look the same 
But it's really still him

When you look at him now
 He will still wink at you
He feels so much better
Now it's easy to do

So I've given his plan
 Put it down here in verse
If you were very bad
 I just hope you don't curse

When you open your gift
 Either switches or coal
From good lookin' Santa 
That thin merry old soul

When he finishes up 
As the sun starts to rise
And you hear his kind words 
Do not be so surprised

“I hope you are happy
Have a very good day
Merry Christmas to all”
Is what he has to say


Epilogue

I got you through Christmas
And how Santa prepared
Of getting and giving
About those who have cared

Hope you gave not expecting
To receive from the same
 And not always because
You drew another one's name

The presents now opened
And the wrapping is trash
The money's in pockets
Of all those who got cash

It's time to get ready
For the afternoon feast
For the turkey and ham
Fresh warm bread raised with yeast

Sliced, canned cranberry sauce
Mashed potatoes so fine
There is much more good food
These are favorites of mine 

All sit at the table
To taste food, but before
Thank the Lord for the meal
For all gathered and more

For we should not forget
About the Holiday's name
If Christ not in Christmas
It is never the same

From simple beginnings
To His death on the hill
Was sent here to save us
To believe, then he will

When we've said the blessing
And we unclasp our hands
Our stomachs are growling
Feed us all their demands

We pass 'round all the bowls
From the left to the right
Eat until we're all full
Even into the night

Crawl away from the plate
We are too full to stand
Cannot eat one more bite
Bellies  big and so grand

Not even one push-up
Or a  walk on the tread
If we wait just one hour
Ala mode pie instead

Hope that your own Christmas
Was so  happy and fine
Got all wished for presents
A full table to dine

That you thanked the dear Lord
For  Him sending His Son
He's the reason for Christmas
He's the Savior, the One

This story is over
I've at last reached the end
No one better than Christ
On whom we may depend

Copyright © Franklin Price | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Suzette Richards | Details |

SUMMER, WINTER SOLSTICE - 2010

It was a visit long overdue by most people’s standards. I had last seen my daughter two years prior to that during a whirlwind trip which she and her fiancé had made to Cape Town. I had an unexpected financial windfall and the money was burning a hole in my pocket. On the spur of the moment, I called my daughter and asked her to source accommodation for me in London over the Christmas season. A few days later, she called me back with the news that all the hotels had been booked up, save for the Ritz. I chuckled at the idea of having to spend my entire holiday budget on just one night at the Ritz. Then reason asserted itself and we put our heads together to come up with an alternative solution. I could hear her flatmate in the background, chipping in with her penny’s worth of advice. My daughter hung up and I was feeling down in the mouth about the plans for the trip being derailed in such a fashion. Later that evening, my daughter called back with the offer that if I did not object to sleeping on the settee in the lounge, I would be most welcome to stay with them at their London flat. I gladly accepted. She is a chef at a top restaurant and I was looking forward to gourmet meals prepared by her - including the Christmas turkey.

screeching seagulls dive at sushi scraps on a plate - the urchin watches
The evening of the booked flight to London, arrived. It was an uncomfortable hot day and I showered and dressed with only minutes to spare before my friend took me to the airport to book in the statuary two hours before international flight departures. At the airport everything was in chaos. We were given the unwelcome news that our flight had been cancelled. This was the third direct flight to London which had been cancelled that week due to London experiencing the worst weather and snow since records began in 1890! We were offered alternative flights and had to stand in queues for hours in order to procure a new airline ticket. Some people became very verbose and insisted on being granted passage on other airline carriers (at the cost of our local airline carrier). I do not know whether it was due to the weather or the disappointment I was feeling, but when my turn came at last to book a new flight, I readily agreed to fly on Christmas Eve ( three days hence) to London. If I had been given time to reflect on this date, I would not have accepted it. Arriving in London on Christmas Day would have been disastrous: The tubes and other public transport would have been curtailed on Christmas Day and shops and other amenities would have been closed for the day. This I knew from previous trips to the UK over the festive season. To add insult to injury, taxis would have charged triple for cab fare and no amount of quibbling would have swayed them. I phoned my friend to collect me and when we got home, I poured a large glass of Merlot and retired on the sun lounger in the garden. It was *full moon that evening and it was almost worth missing the trip to witness its beauty. I left my bags in the hallway and retired early – after phoning my daughter and giving her an update on the status quo.
moths dart between moon flowers - lunar eclipse
Six am the following morning, I was woken up by the phone ringing. Sleepily I took the call. It was the airline inquiring whether I could get to the airport by seven am. My friend was dancing up and down in agitation and already had the car out by the time I had brushed my teeth. I offered to pay any speeding fines which she might incur during our mad dash to get to the airport on time. The flight was an additional service which was laid on to get the backlog of passengers to their desired destinations. Heathrow had given our pilots permission to proceed, hence the call to me that morning. We were a total of thirty six passengers on the Boeing 747 – it translated to two passengers per crew member. We were treated to five in flight movies which were current and could eat and drink as much as we wished to. By the time we landed in London at seven pm that evening, there was a festive spirit among us. A radio taxi (which my daughter had organised) was waiting to collect me at Heathrow airport. It was a chilly four degrees Celsius below zero and I was grateful for my leather coat and wool accessories.
steep steps to flat shut out the bitter world - a heart pounds
**************************************************************** *The December 2010 lunar eclipse occurred from 5:27 to 11:06 UTC on December 21, coinciding with the date of the December solstice. It was visible in its entirety as a total lunar eclipse in North and South America, Iceland, Ireland, Britain and northern Scandinavia. "bitter" means piercingly cold..... A term commonly used by Britishers... "flat" means apartment. The Londoners I know, refer to it as just "flat" with no adj or possessive noun or article. Please see the About section for explanations regarding the 1ST AND LAST haiku. Haibun(literally, haikai writings) is a prosi-metric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku. The range of haibun is broad and includes the autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story and travel journal. ~ Wikipedia

Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Laura Loo | Details |

Story About Santa Contest

Sponsor: Carol Eastman

Long before Christmas had become a jolly folklore,
I met a grandfatherly man...
He was clean shaven, tiny and crabby,
And always wore a floppy black suit, his name was Mr. Atnas.

See, I was at such a tender young age,
full of innocence and make believe...
I lived in a small village on a small island towards the northern plateau,
Waters of the Arctic Ocean surrounded it,
all the people in the village called it Samtsirhc, residing in
the North Pole.

At that time, the village was dark and dreary,
The sun wouldn't shine for days,

One gloomy Tuesday I went to work at my Papa's
gift shop.
It had been passed down for generations, and one day
it will be mine...
I learned at a young age how  to use the cash register and stock
the post cards.

I saw Mr. Atnas walking into the shop and my heart raced,
anticipating what he will say or do.
As I stared at him he slowly walked up to me.
“HEY YOU! I need help now!
What's taking you so long!!”
My Papa was chopping wood for sweet Ms. Sualc,
who had just lost her husband, so it was up to me to help.
He screamed, “I'm looking for wood for my furnace!”

I scrambled my words anxiously..
“ Mmmmrr. Atttnasss.....
Mmyy ppappa iis choppping some
woood iiin the bacck..
I willl gooo gett ssommme ffor youu.”
About two minutes later,
I hurried back to Mr. Atnas with his wood.
“Heere yyouu ggo sir...”
I didn't hear a thank you, just nothing but silence 
and glaring eyes.
As we were walking up to the 
register, I heard a loud trembling noise..
“Oh no Mr. Atnas, are you ok?”
He had fallen on his back and I could tell
he was in pain, he said,
“Oh YOU BOY I need help getting up,”
I just knew I would fall again
since I forgot my cane.”
So I screamed for Papa, and heard nothing..
I put my right arm around his neck 
and my left arm down by his waist.
He started to limp and gradually caught his breath and stood up.
I could see sincere relief in his eyes, he whispered
while taking a deep breath.
“You sweet boy, thank you so much.
I'm sorry I was so mean to you earlier.
A few minutes went by and he had to pay for the wood.
He checked all his pockets and realized he had
forgotten his wallet...
Sweet Ms. Saulc, standing behind him whispers..
“Oh dear Mr, Atnas, may I please pay
this bill for you?
I would be delighted.”
Mr. Atnas was in shock, for
it was twice today he had been 
touched by generosity...

Then came Wednesday, and 
I woke up to sunshine bliss, 
with snow blanketed on every pine tree,
Rainbow colored lights emitting beauty 
to all in the village.
“What a marvelous thing
mother nature has brought us!”

There was a castle made of gingerbread cookies, 
candy canes draping over every needle of all of the trees.
Beautiful green tinted windows on the castle that was 
right before me. 
It was just beautiful.
Lit up garland streamed
over every corner, golden glass
for all 4 doors.
The magnitude ran for miles.. 
Blinking red and green flashes on those old dreary bushes.

And wow, a snowman! I had always heard
about them, but have never actually
seen any!
Chocolate covered sweets lining up for infinity,
reaching the castle in our village in the North Pole.

I noticed eight reindeer galloping in front
of the castle.
"Such marvelous animals I've never
seen in the light of day!"

In wondrous awe, I saw a man..
I thought, “when did he move here and why?
Out comes a plumpy humpty dumpty man
wearing an over sized red suit with candy canes
hanging on all of the seams.
Long white-grayish beard down to his sternum.
And a red long laying hat with a white cotton ball on the top
with delicate glasses to see.
“Ho Ho Ho!!! Merry Christmas to our village of Samtsirhc!!
It took me a minute but I realized that Samtsirhc
backwards is...CHRISTMAS...
How clever is he!
I ran up to him full of intrigue and he greets me with a smile.
I thought...”hmmmm, he looks very familiar..”
I looked into his eyes and noticed he had a slight limp,
and unbelievably it was crabby Mr. Atnas! 
Wow! What has happened to him? 
What is going on? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE???
He said, “Oh, sweet boy, you have helped
me live a life of joy and kindness.
My name now is Santa.
Starting today, dear boy, our
village in the North Pole shall be 
nothing but vivid dreams of sunshine.
All the little children shall be full of lollipops and gracious gifts,
made from my little elves in the workshop.”
For every year on this day, we will celebrate joy
and gratitude with wonderful fellowship
through out the world!"
As I was listening to him with anticipation 
for days to come, I realized that Santa is Atnas backwards! 
Out of the corner of my eye appeared an old angelic woman,
it took me a minute but I realized it!! 
It was sweet lady Ms. Saulc...
For now she shall be called Mrs. Claus..
What a beautiful sight to see!
Such a lovely couple and how
wonderful is it that today will be
known as Christmas Day.

Long before Christmas had become a jolly folklore,
I met a grandfatherly man...
Santa was his name, dressed in all red,
with big jolly hands...

Written By: Laura Loo
Date Written: December 19, 2015

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Chris Peers | Details |

Cowboy Jesus

There's a man who lives in my street,
he wears cowboy clothes and he looks like Jesus,
he has a thick silver chain around his neck,
and a big silver cross on the end of it,
I hear him before I see him,
the heels of his alligator skinned boots are studded,
clack, clack, clack, clack,
he walks around the block every morning,
one of his daily rituals is singing in the style of Elvis Presley,
each morning he sings the same verse from "If I can dream",

"There must be lights burning brighter somewhere,
Got to be birds flying higher in a sky more blue,
If I can dream of a better land,
Where all my brothers walk hand in hand,
Tell me why, oh why, oh why, can't my dream come true".

In the evenings, he slowly drives his blood red mustang
thru the neighborhood, always singing the same verse from
"Walk a mile in my shoes",

"If I could be you and you could be me for just one hour,
If we could find a way to get inside each others mind,
If you could see you through my eyes instead of your ego,
I believe you'd be surprised to see that you'd been blind,
Walk a mile in my shoes, walk a mile in my shoes,
Yeah, before you abuse, criticize and accuse, walk a mile in my shoes".

One Sunday morning in the summer,
I was mowing my front yard, before the heat of the day arrived,
Cowboy Jesus, that's what I call him, stopped at the edge of my yard, 
and leaned his back against my mail box,
I cut the engine to my lawn mower and went over to him,
he said to me "Do you go to church"?
I said "No",
he said "You should, let me tell you about my church, its called,
its called, o' dear lord, I can't remember the name of my church,
goddammit, anyway, you should go to church",
I said "Maybe you should pray to your god and he'll tell you the 
name of your church",
he stared at me for a couple of seconds, then burst out laughing,
he walked away still laughing while the heels of his alligator skinned
cowboy boots went clack, clack, clack, clack, 
I then began to hear him singing that verse
from his morning ritual song, trying to impersonate Elvis,

"There must be lights burning brighter somewhere,
Got to be birds flying higher in a sky more blue,
If I can dream of a better land,
Where all my brothers walk hand in hand,
Tell me why, oh why, oh why, can't my dream come true".

Throughout the rest of the year,
I heard him walking by my house,
clack, clack, clack clack,
singing his morning song,
and in the evenings, 
he drove his blood red mustang,
extra slow as he passed by my yard and house,
always singing the same verse from 'Walk a mile in my shoes"
in the style of the King of Rock 'n' Roll,

 "If I could be you and you could be me for just one hour,
If we could find a way to get inside each others mind,
If you could see you through my eyes instead of your ego,
I believe you'd be surprised to see that you'd been blind,
Walk a mile in my shoes, walk a mile in my shoes,
Yeah, before you abuse, criticize and accuse, walk a mile in my shoes".
  
Last week, I went for a walk around the block with my dog, a black and white
Old English sheepdog, who we call Barkley Barkington, 
we were approaching Cowboy Jesus' house, when I was struck with awe
by his tree and yard Christmas decorations. The trees and bushes were
bedecked with green, yellow, red and orange twinkling lights, in the center of his yard,
he had a nativity scene, back lit with a golden yellow, that made the scene glow.
Behind the nativity scene, he had a Christmas tree, standing taller than his one
story house, strewn with multi colored lights, with a silver star at the apex.
He had two 6 foot inflatable snow men in the back corners of his yard, he had
inflatable reindeer pulling Santa Claus on a sled in the front left corner of his yard,
and a 10 foot silver colored cross erected on the front right of his yard. 
With tubular multi colored lights, he had, in cursive, the words JESUS SAVES,
spread out across the front and width of his yard.

I rested my back against his mail box to marvel at the scene,
a minute later, Cowboy Jesus came out of his house and approached
me at his mail box. He said to me, "I remember you, you're that pagan who lives
up the street'. I merely grunted in acknowledgement.
I then noticed that he was shirtless, still wearing his silver cross and chain,
but, his whole torso and arms were tattooed in red ink with religious scripture. 
I thought to myself, "i don't think you understand the irony of your words, Cowboy Jesus".
I complimented his Christmas decorations and said good night to him, and continued to
walk around the block with Barkley Barkington, with echoes of Cowboy Jesus singing that verse 
from "Walk a mile in shoes".

"If I could be you and you could be me for just one hour,
If we could find a way to get inside each others mind,
If you could see you through my eyes instead of your ego,
I believe you'd be surprised to see that you'd been blind,
Walk a mile in my shoes, walk a mile in my shoes,
Yeah, before you abuse, criticize and accuse, walk a mile in my shoes".

And I screamed inside my head, "Oh Hell, no"!!

Copyright © Chris Peers | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

Never Out of Season - A Short Story

     I was wiping the dust off an old snow globe in the upstairs attic, when a mop of honey-blonde hair suddenly appeared through the wooden flooring.
     "I thought I'd find you here," said the voice, warm and feminine. It was a lovely contrast to the thoughts that bloomed inside my head. The little red Santa smiling gaily, his gloved hand forever frozen in a wave. Truth be told it was over a hundred degrees outside, and up here in this cobweb-ridden place (by God) was practically unbearable.
     But as I lightly shook the fragile keepsake I found myself dashing through the snow like I once did so many years ago. I heard the sound of high pitched laughter from afar, out in the sultry day (most likely the neighbor kids playing tag through a sprinkler-soaked lawn). But there, at that precise moment, I was taking the road before me, and singing a chorus or two.
     "You miss him don't ya?" the voice broke me out of my thoughts, and for a moment I just stared at her as if she had a left over piece of spinach in her teeth. I nodded quietly in the silence and rubbed the smooth curvature of the glass with my thumb. It somehow felt cold, as if winter wonderland was still trapped inside.
     I knew I hadn't stayed too long, though I knew my wife would be patient throughout this ordeal, however long it took. She didn't need to recite any famous sayings to pick me up, just her being there was enough. It was the unspoken truth between us, and it was always enough.
     "Cody and Angie will be downstairs when you're ready to head out."
     "I'm ready now. I was just doing a little cleaning up." It wasn't quite a lie. It was one of those statements we use to say one thing and mean the other. The attic was "okay", but I knew of more dire things in need of some organization.
     Beth went down the ladder first, naturally. Then it was me, a bit awkwardly, still holding the snow globe. We both came into the living room, where our children sat waiting. Cody was playing some handheld video-game in his Hawaiian swimming trunks. Angie was quietly giggling at something her friend said, via text. Her blue bathing suit was barely more than a strap, and I knew I was this close from losing it. But this was a happy day, so I let it slide, just this once.
     "Are you still not ready?" asked Angie.
     I looked down at my blue work jeans and buttoned-up t-shirt. My wife gave her a fierce look, as if willing her to take back what she said. It didn't really matter though ... my emotions were spent.
     "I was gonna change when we got there," I said, a bit defeated.
     "Whatever." She rolled her eyes and plopped her phone right there on the couch. I just stood there like a lifeless statue, while my family got everything ready to head to the local pool. My wife was as patient as a snail, but the kids bustled about as if they've been down here a lifetime. Cody was mad when Beth took the game-boy from his hand, just before some big important checkpoint. Angie was calling Beth completely unfair for not letting her invite Tom over to come swim as well. My wife told her, "This is a family event, no exceptions, and for Pete's sake, listen to me for just this once!"
     I just stood there, in quiet grief. Their voices were mere sounds, plastic and surreal, and I went along with it as if everything was alright. But it wasn't alright. The world was falling apart all around me, miraculously still turning, and I just stood there! Finally I reached for the doorknob, when I realized I still had the snow globe in my hand.
     I looked at it longingly, with affection, and it came to me. A slightly crazy idea. Not the kind where it's life or death, but the fact that it was a spur of the moment decision, it felt totally crazy. I placed the snow globe on the mantel above the fireplace, where the glass caught the sun just right and the jolly Santa shone a brilliant red.
     Allow me this simple pleasure, I asked God in silence. Let the neighbors gawk and smirk all they want. Let the kids think their father's going senile, thinking it's December and not August. I didn't care. I just watched the little flakes twinkle through out the water-filled dome.
     I displayed it proudly, knowing that good will, kindness and love were never out of season. So I picked myself up out of my gloomy state, got inside the car, and slid into the driver's seat. "Alright, let's go!" I said cheerfully, and everyone looked surprised.
     "Dad, is everything … okay?" asked Cody, from behind. But no answer was necessary. I just smiled, and looked across at Beth without a care in the world.
     And since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.



First Published in Dual Coast Magazine Issue #3

NOTE: I've written a few short stories, but this one is special to me. It was well received by my family, and I was so excited to discover it was accepted by a magazine. It was my first non-poem to be published.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Laura Loo | Details |

The Divine Messenger-Christmas With Christ poem Story contest

Christmas With Christ Poem/Story Contest
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst

Way before Jesus Christ was born, I was one of a chosen few,
to be a spiritual Being attending to God. 
I thought I was really nobody special, 
but He thought I was.
He thought I was a beautiful benevolent being,
Bright and celestial acting as a courier for Him 
between Heaven and earth.
See there are different types of angels, 
I happen to be the only "Divine Messenger". 
And there I stood in paradise, praising, 
dancing and singing with Him, 
The Almighty glowed with all colors of the rainbow, 
With prisms shining out of his hands,
with the maximum of whiteness,
Reflecting His loving arms. 
One evening He came to me and expressed
His deep passion for mankind, 
I noticed He was excited.
He said, "Soon there shall be a Man, made out of my blood, 
a living sacrifice of  My word and actions on earth. He shall be
the Savior of all people, and those who believe in Him shall see the Kingdom of Heaven." 
When I heard this news I stood there in awe. 
For the first time I saw God proclaiming that His
miracles would be performed by a man, His one true Son. 
After that, he took me aside and gave me a very 
special duty to perform. I was to be the messenger to proclaim to the world that born unto them would be a Savior. He said, "Shout to the world, Heaven and earth that a Son shall be born and 
He Shall be named Jesus Christ of Nazareth." 
I had strict directions from God. 
He told me to prepare myself for my significance was great. 
On the day of Christ's birth I was very busy. 
I had to gather all the other angels. 
The cherubs, archangels, celestial hierarchy's, 
the searph's and lastly the guardian Angels. 
I was His one and only Divine Messenger, 
and what an important duty I had to fulfill! 
All day I waited in anticipation of the night that would soon come,
The night our Lord was to be born unto the earth.
As I looked down and watched the sun slowly setting,
I knew it was almost time for me to fly below.
On my way down to Bethlehem,
I saw this star, so vivid the whole sky lit up and it radiated all 
Throughout the world. 
Following that star were three wise men
and I could see that they had many gifts for Jesus's mother and father, Mary and Joseph. 
They were riding on donkey's so slow,
but they wouldn't let that star out of their sight. 
When I arrived at the poor little manger, 
I saw Mary and Joseph almost where Christ was to be born.  
As they rode up I was pained to see how 
much anguish Mary was going through. For she was special. 
She was a virgin chosen to carry and deliver the one and only Son of God. 
My halo was radiating the brightest colors of white's
and yellow's, with a tiny hue of pink. 
For I was the angel created to watch and protect this crisp and magnificent Christmas night. 
I said, "I have a message from the Almighty Father, 
you two shall inherit the earth In thanksgiving for bringing
Jesus into this world. For because of you, all mankind Shall be saved and those who follow Him shall see the 
Glory of God and enter the Kingdom of Heaven." 
Mary just looked so exhausted and fatigued. 
I knew she had but one more push. And then there was one last cry in agony and there He was, Jesus Christ! 
I played my trumpet and violin in volumes so intense. 
All the pain, suffering and sacrifice was worth it. 
Shepherds starting walking up and bringing their 
flocks to witness the biggest Miracle that has ever 
been performed. Three wise men came up, knelt down while
bowing, bearing gifts of frankincense and myrrh.
I saw Joseph crying in joy and Mary smiling in amazement
 at what had taken Place. 
As she gazed down at her little boy she was overwhelmed with a feeling of wonder And admiration. 
She looked at her loyal husband and he kissed her on her forehead as if it was the First time he kissed her. 
I could just feel the glory in their hearts.
They have been waiting months for this day and it is finally here. 
I have never seen something more spiritually awoken than
The souls of those two Proud parents. 
Then we all looked up to the sky and that star 
shined brighter and emitted all colors of the rainbow.
I am an angel, and I have never seen something
so spectacular in all my time revering God. 
As the night carried on, more people from 
Bethlehem noticed the star of wonder And you 
should've seen all of them praising baby Jesus, 
the newborn King....
I've been up here a very long time, in fact for eternity, 
And I know in my heart nothing will ever compare. 
Although, I did hear a little rumor that Jesus Christ
is coming back to earth real Soon.
I can't wait until all His followers meet with me a
and we can all glorify Him in Heaven forever...
Merry Christmas everyone... 

Written: November 7, 2015

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Darryl Ashton | Details |

THE LITTLE FIR TREE

THE LITTLE FIR TREE


A Little fir grew in the midst of the wood 
Contented and happy, as young trees should. 
His body was straight and his boughs were clean; 
And summer and winter the bountiful sheen 

Of his needles bedecked him, from top to root, 
In a beautiful, all-the-year, evergreen suit.
But a trouble came into his heart one day, 
When he saw that the other trees were gay
 
In the wonderful raiment that summer weaves 
Of manifold shapes and kinds of leaves: 
He looked at his needles so stiff and small, 
And thought that his dress was the poorest of 
all.
 
Then jealousy clouded the little tree's mind, 
And he said to himself, "It was not very kind 
"To give such an ugly old dress to a tree! 
"If the fays of the forest would only ask me,
 
"I'd tell them how I should like to be dressed,
"In a garment of gold, to bedazzle the rest!" 
So he fell asleep, but his dreams were bad. 
When he woke in the morning, his heart was 
glad;
 
For every leaf that his boughs could hold 
Was made of the brightest beaten gold. 
I tell you, children, the tree was proud; 
He was something above the common crowd;
 
And he tinkled his leaves, as if he would say 
To a peddler who happened to pass that way, 
"Just look at me! don't you think I am fine? 
"And wouldn't you like such a dress as mine?" 

"Oh, yes!" said the man, "and I really guess 
I must fill my pack with your beautiful dress." 
So he picked the golden leaves with care, 
And left the little tree shivering there.

"Oh, why did I wish for golden leaves?" 
The fir-tree said, "I forgot that thieves 
"Would be sure to rob me in passing by. 
"If the fairies would give me another try,
 
"I'd wish for something that cost much less, 
"And be satisfied with glass for my dress!" 
Then he fell asleep; and, just as before, 
The fairies granted his wish once more.
 
When the night was gone, and the sun rose clear, 
The tree was a crystal chandelier; 
And it seemed, as he stood in the morning light, 
That his branches were covered with jewels bright.
 
"Aha!" said the tree. "This is something great!" 
And he held himself up, very proud and straight; 
But a rude young wind through the forest dashed, 
In a reckless temper, and quickly smashed
 
The delicate leaves. With a clashing sound 
They broke into pieces and fell on the ground, 
Like a silvery, shimmering shower of hail, 
And the tree stood naked and bare to the gale.

Then his heart was sad; and he cried, "Alas 
"For my beautiful leaves of shining glass! 
"Perhaps I have made another mistake 
"In choosing a dress so easy to break.
 
"If the fairies only would hear me again 
"I'd ask them for something both pretty and plain: 
"It wouldn't cost much to grant my request,
"In leaves of green lettuce I'd like to be dressed!"
 
By this time the fairies were laughing, I know; 
But they gave him his wish in a second; and so 
With leaves of green lettuce, all tender and sweet, 
The tree was arrayed, from his head to his feet.
 
"I knew it!" he cried, "I was sure I could find 
"The sort of a suit that would be to my mind. 
"There's none of the trees has a prettier dress, 
"And none as attractive as I am, I guess."
 
But a goat, who was taking an afternoon 
walk, 
By chance overheard the fir-tree's talk. 
So he came up close for a nearer view;
"My salad!" he bleated, "I think so too! 

"You're the most attractive kind of a tree, 
"And I want your leaves for my five-o'clock 
tea." 
So he ate them all without saying grace, 
And walked away with a grin on his face;
 
While the little tree stood in the twilight dim, 
With never a leaf on a single limb.
Then he sighed and groaned; but his voice was 
weak
He was so ashamed that he could not speak. 

He knew at last that he had been a fool, 
To think of breaking the forest rule, 
And choosing a dress himself to please, 
Because he envied the other trees.
 
But it couldn't be helped, it was now too 
late, 
He must make up his mind to a leafless fate! 
So he let himself sink in a slumber deep, 
But he moaned and he tossed in his troubled 
sleep,
 
Till the morning touched him with joyful 
beam, 
And he woke to find it was all a dream. 
For there in his evergreen dress he stood, 
A pointed fir in the midst of the wood!
 
His branches were sweet with the balsam 
smell, 
His needles were green when the white snow 
fell. 
And always contented and happy was he,
The very best kind of a Christmas tree.

BY
DARRYL ASHTON

Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Carol Eastman | Details |

That 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…

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Roy Jerden | Details |

Redneck Santa

T'were the night after Christmas, 'n' the house was all dark.
Not much money for 'lectric in the ol' trailer park.
Ma waitin' tables at the club on the base,
jist me and my sisters alone in the place.

A big ol' blue norther, t'were a hard winter storm.
We's all snuggled up close, jist tryin' ta stay warm.
The trailer's as cold as a well digger's ass,
cause they come out that mornin' and turnt off the gas.

I shore kinda hated to git out of that bed,
but ol' Mother Nature made me git up, instead.
I'd gotta go out if I wanted a leak,
'cause the toilet had bin all plugged up fer a week.

Outside it 'peered warmer, which was a suprise.
As I peed on the tree, sumpin lit up the skies.
Them lights shined down on the yard, and I froze.
Shore prayed it warn't one of them weird UFO's.

As I stood thar turnin' round and around
there was white stuff fallin' and coatin' the ground.
I grabbed a big buncha it up in my mitts.
I thought it was snow, but turnt out it were grits.

I heared a big motor runnin' up overhead
and down come a monster truck painted all red.
It bounced on the front 'n' bounced on the back,
then the driver clumb down 'n' grabbed a tow sack.

He was white-haired 'n' husky, with red overalls,
long ZZ Top whiskers 'n' blood-shot eyeballs.
A red John Deere work cap was perched on his nut
and a WalMart white T-shirt half-covered his gut.

He look like he just come off'n the farm,
'cept fer them tattoos of elves on his arm.
As I stood around there jist like a complete dick,
he says, “Boy ain't you gonna say crap to St. Nick?”

“Yes siree Bob”, says I, “I got sumpin to say.
I'd shore like ta know where you was yesterday.
The toilet's stopped up and we's all out of heat,
ain't got no money and they's nuthin' to eat.”

“I was fixin' ta make it on time”, he then said.
He look kinda sheepish, and hung down his head.
“But I stopped at a bar when I finished my rounds.
And run inna St. Paddy at the Hare 'n' the Hounds."

"Ya know that he's the very best pal of St. Nick.
But there's none who can put 'em away like that Mick.
And the next thing ya know, we's over at Chances
Where that Tooth Fairy is doin' ten-dollar lap dances.”

“The Tooth Fairy a stripper? That done give me the chills!”
“Yessir”, says he, “Where ya think she gits all them bills?”
“Jist a minute”, I goes. “Where's the reindeer and sleigh?”
He turnt even redder, and then looked away.

“Well, we had a poker game goin', I thought I would win.
I was holdin' four aces and bet everthang in.”
There was a palpable silence, a terrible hush.
“Then that damn Easter Bunny laid down a straight flush.”

“Well, I cut cards with a redneck and won me that truck
But as for the reindeer, they was squat outta luck
They throwed a big barbeque, and cooked 'em up slow
But I must say them reindeer's good eatin', ya know?”

No Dasher, no Dancer, no Prancer and Vixen!
No Comet, no Cupid, no Donner and Blitzen!
For hung on that red-painted monster truck's nose
was eight pairs of antlers, lined up in two rows.

“Anyway, I brung vittles for you and the girls.”
And out of the sack he pulled seven skint squirrels.
“I jist bagged 'em thar in yer neighbor's back yard
Fry 'em up well, boy, with plenty of lard.”

I goes, “Them squirrels is rilly fine eatin' fer shore,
But ta git past tomorrow, we's gonna need more.”
says he,“Well, I's a bit short on cash fer today.”
And he give me six lottery numbers to play.

Then up drives my ma with bad blood in her eye
Draws out her six-shooter, jist primed to let fly.
Then lowers her arm down and commences to bawl
says, “I love you, you bastard, you tol' me you'd call!”

He says, “Boy, looks like it's not healthy to linger
Sticks his mitt out 'n' goes “Just pull on my finger.
The truck is fer you, son. I bid ya goodnight.”
And on a column of wind, he plumb riz out of sight.

I feels fevered and flushed as I stands there in awe
And I reckons this redneck St. Nick was my paw.
A voice far-off hollers, “Merry Christmas, now, y'all!
Then adds, “Don't fret none baby, jist wait fer my call!”

P.S. Them lottery numbers worked out good. We
bought a double-wide on our own lot 'n' a giant
TV and had still had lots of money left over fer
me to go to big rig truck driving school and Ma
to that there beauty college. And on top of that
a Nigerian guy is going to deposit over a million
dollars in my bank account.

Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by liam mcdaid | Details |

A Most Irish Fairy Tale - Merry Christmas to All

It is not just Santa Claus who we meet in cold December— 
There is “Carolina,” and she’s the beauty of a winter picture perfect 
With luscious long coal black curly hair far down on her back 
As a true fairy princess, Carolina is quite beautiful with beaming

Blue eyes and that certain incandescent glow for all to see and 
Dressed in a sparkling white robe made of polar bear skins 
With a glossy coat sprinkled with pearls and diamonds . . . .

Out of the woods she comes so quiet in the night’s fresh snow 
With a glimpse of two deer and a fox on hunt walking carefully 
Carolina hopes the deer will walk around with angelic guard 
The secret is that beautiful Carolina talks the animals’ languages 
The birds they play in all its splendor fine without sorrows 
They fly while Carolina keeps watch carefully on the horizon 

Falling snow now dazzling Christmas in a ball circle most brilliant 
While there is a frozen frosted sprinkling silver in the mist shining sun
Oh so!! Wonderful to behold as the Spirit of Christmas comes alive . . . .

The Reindeer come alive and begin dancing joyfully together and 
Create such a melodic sound almost like bells ringing aloud
And the all the Reindeer are here in their resplendent glory:
Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen,
And Rudolph, with his red nose so beautiful and oh so bright—
And the sounds the Reindeer make stay in the minds of the little
Children just like sweetly wishing little voices wonderful in dreams
With those singing, tunes a dancing light appears so wondrous 
While planes from all over the world begin landing with cargo
And one each day with loads of letters from good little children

And Santa Claus begins calling the elfin troops into action while
The Leprechauns do all the heavy work as they are much tougher
But the old fighting Irish in them showing their softer side all the 
While with a drop of the old fiery dew to keep them warm smiling 
Like the very wee little Devil in them - mischievous and all . . . . 

They do all the heavy work for the elves as they have more of a spring
In their step while almost bouncing on the tip of the their toes like 
Little jumping springs so full of boundless wonder and energy and  
Then day after day the letters keep arriving and landing at the North Pole 
And they begin working like mad and very busily in the North Pole factory

While Santa checks the letters of all boys and girls through a secret window 
And when he shakes it he sees through the mist in a glass bubble of the
Christmas treats while hurriedly calling together all of his Reindeer . . . .
The sound of hooves on the snow saddles up the sleigh he is very slim 
To start off while all his helpers are loading up and he flicks the reins 

And the bells start ringing and - in a flash of magic dust in spirit sings of 
The ground waving he bade Mrs. Claus a very fond and loving farewell
And off he goes in a flash of light Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! echoing in the distance 

Each chimney sliding down he eats the food throwing some to the Reindeer 
Treats left after the night's over he feels so fat eating so much he heads back 
Home to the North Pole while smiling so content at the children’s happiness 
And ringing in his ears filled with golden smiles and wishing everyone a very 
Merry Christmas he falls asleep after Mrs. Claus makes him a hot chocolate
Really tired but easing his weary bones year after year he loves his job very
Much so and all of the sheer delight that his efforts and those of Mrs. Clau
And his elfin helpers and the joy and fun of the Reindeer bring to all children
On this Earth!! 
                     Merry Christmas to All!!



Anne-Lise Andresen, Liam McDaid and Gary Bateman – A Collaborated Poem, 

Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 9, 2014) (Free Verse)

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014

Long Poems