What Christmas Is To Me
It’s cotton for snow in a village I know
with each house in its place on a shelf.
And an angel is there, high in the air
In the top of our tree, by its self.
It’s a manger scene of ceramic and sheen,
And the Christ child watched over by Snoopy.
Though his character don’t fit, doesn’t matter a bit,
The child wanted him there; not Goofy.
It’s carolers singing, and tiny bells ringing,
And the Salvation Army kettle.
It’s cooking and baking, and young hearts waiting
For Santa Clause after they settle.
It’s candles that light our windows at night
And a wreath hanging on our front door.
A child’s surprise, and the glow in his eyes
Among paper and bows on the floor.
It’s church bells that ring to remind of a scene
When into the world there came
A child who was King, who came to redeem
Those who were lost and lame.
The excitement is there, and sounds fill the air
And I celebrate for a reason.
Remembering Christ came to accept all my blame
Is why I celebrate the season.
Ron Lanier
Christmas, 2006
Copyright © Ron Lanier | Year Posted 2010
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