Almost, Christmas Story
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Almost Christmas according to my calendar,
the stores are decorated and in a clamor;
snow falls in the frozen sky making days bleaker,
a beggar holds out his hand as people walk by.
In my church, red flowers and berries prettify,
all alone and quiet, I hum a lullaby;
pondering- the I want this and that till I cry,
people seem to forget what Christmas is about.
It is about a special baby, I want to shout,
wonder if people recall that at the checkout;
a baby born to die. Remember? I doubt-
a homeless man lies dead and people keep walking.
With shopping bags full they keep laughing and talking,
for this poor lost soul will anyone be praying;
yes, I will! And Jesus will take him up flying,
that baby born, that man who died upon a cross.
Remember him in all the Christmas wild chaos,
oh, the Christmas story is not all floss and gloss;
not about gifts, but about a son, a life lost,
almost Christmas according to my calendar.
_______________________
December 8, 2017
Poetry/Rhyme/Almost, Christmas Story
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9696-15-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Christmas Story, Theme 3
sponsor, Eve Roper
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2017
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