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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 12 BROTHERS BEARING GIFTS A Mother weeps, her child is born, A Father poor sits all forlorn, The wind howls through their shelter rough, The wood for their fire is not enough. And though no gifts can they bestow, Of riches and of jewels that glow, 12 brothers bearing gifts of joy, Arrive for the poverty stricken little boy. The first comes, gliding down the panes, So fresh, so quiet to fill the lanes, The tiny babe’s cheeks are pink, and bright, The air is cold, and all is so white. The next seeps through the crack in the door, And fills the hut in a might roar, The little boy giggles, he thinks it’s fun, His folks light the fire their day’s work done. The third brings winds that cloud the sky, And all around migrant birds begin to fly, And the fourth heralds the April showers Preparing for May and Spring-time flowers. And with June days, the Summer starts, Cold, rain and snow now all departs, The sun is smiling, its rays spread about Children playing happy to be out! October brings Autumn, which in it’s height, Is out in the country a magnificent sight, The wool is woven, the crops are in store, When will Winter, come knocking at the door? The 10th makes the heavens open wide, So all the animals scurry to hide, Leaving behind a child full of thought, That the richest of parents couldn’t have bought. And the next leaves the trees looking so bare, But the child doesn’t worry or give it a care, For the woods look so pretty in their Winter glory, And the wind whistles gently whispering its story. And now that Christmas is almost due, All poverty is forgotten, it’s the parents cue, So out, come small savings in bright coloured coffers, To celebrate the goodwill that this brother offers.
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