Poetry Christmas Poems

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

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Details | Light Poetry |
.The first gift of Christmas was love It was bestowed from above It was given to all to both rich and poor to those who are strong or who can easily fall To coloured and white To the ones less smart or those who are bright to muslims and catholics buddhists and protestants To believers and atheists To the young and the old To all humankind. The first gift of christmas was love It was bestowed from above To those who show compassion Forgiveness and their care To those who receive blessings and know the way to share To those who look at others with the eyes of a child and to those who make a space for our little Jesus Christ The first gift of Christmas was love It was bestowed from above May We all search deeper Of this gift be a keeper May this love transmits joy that kind of joy that lasts That joy that lit up faces and our heart embraces That joy that comes to visit and then remains with us Happy Christmas to all my sweet friends and your families love you all Charma.

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014




Details | Prose Poetry |
On the day after Christmas, they started appearing,
cast out of houses, stripped of their finery,
lying crooked in the gutter, garbage bags flanking.

My brothers and I walked to school
and halfway there, three blocks away,
was a steep ravine called The Hollow.
A place of some dark mystery in summer,
one hundred feet deep and forbidden land
according to most parents, The Hollow
sang its song to all neighborhood kids.

Returning to school after Christmas,
my brothers and I would drag the discarded
Christmas trees along the sidewalk and onto the bridge
that spanned The Hollow, then heave them over the railing,
watching their graceful tumble earthward, 
their air brushing final fall.

"Hey, I used to do that too!" Donnie was a lot older,
almost done with high school, and his walk took him
right by our elementary school - he laughed to see us
hauling the trees to that concluding bridge.
He grabbed a large one, bigger than any of us could handle,
and upon the bridge had us help him hold it upright on the railing,
as it stood in life, as it looked down upon Christmas gifts;
we watched it slowly lean into Gravity,
watched the balletic descent into silence.

Donnie kept with us that first month into the new year,
the pile of trees growing in the bottom of The Hollow.
He told us things, we told him things,
we asked him things and he told us more.

My brothers and I still talk about that big tree
on the railing of the bridge over The Hollow.
It hit right on top of the pile of other trees
and bounced off to the side, its own special place.

As January wore on, we didn't find as many trees,
and ultimately it was all done.  
Eventually the school year too was done,
and then more years, and school itself was done.
The trees at the bottom of The Hollow rotted away to nothing.
Somewhere in there my mom told me that Donnie
had been shipped off to war, killed within a few weeks.
We had that one magic month.


December 25, 2016

For Anthony Slausen's contest - 'The Day After Christmas'

Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
Oh the Ghosts, Oh the Ghosts!!!
The Ghosts of Christmas shall haunt the wicked
They shall haunt the bitter and sorrowful decrepit creatures
Your hunched back and wallet will be no shield
For the three ghosts of the Christmas past

I Sir am the ghost of the Christmas past
Fear not I shall do yee no harm
That, you have already done upon your own wicked soul
Yes, that is you, as a young man, full of piss and vinegar as they say
Oh I know, you young ones then called it love, sore sight that was

I sir am the ghost of the Christmas present
Fear not, the bitter cause their own harm, not I for sure
They seethe within their own discontent and folly
The chains you hear old scrooge, are not mine
They are the irons that chain your heart to the wheel of wealth

I sir am the ghost of Christmas future
Fear not, for there is hope for all mankind
Even you, who counts coins like lovers count kisses
When you wake, you shall remember not, all these wise illusionary dreams
Old scrooge, the gift of mercy shall bestow a last grasp at happiness, take yee    hold!!!

The most festive of December days, the sun rose in the cold brisk air
Scrooge awoke, and the inexplicable sound of laughter filled his dreary bedroom
Pure unadulterated joy from the grumpiest of old men
The maid fled in fear, what insanity must have possessed this bitter old lard
Ah but happiness was indeed in the air

On with his topcoat and hat, nary a moment to ponder
Of he went to his secretary’s house
Carol, Carol !!!! He exclaimed, yes, I am not mad not crazy nor insane, open the door!
Possessed maybe, but only of joy, that I, the one so filled with animosity
Now I see, by the grace of the god, the love before my very eyes!!!

Well Carol and Scrooge passed a very Merry Christmas indeed!!!!!


Notes: This take of “A Christmas Carol” is from fond memories as a child, when our Dad “made” us watch this movie over the years! Blessed are those with such fond childhood memories of Christmas! 

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014




Details | Light Poetry |
As I contemplate life
Through thick lenses glasses of the whiskey bottle
Is there life?
What is life, what is the lie, or even the truth?
Or is there only the journey to darkness
If so, why not buy a first class ticket
To the black hole of the universe
There in death, I can sit
In peace
Dreaming of the rebirth of atoms and molecules

Then, I ponder some more
I remember years ago
Holding a soda pop bottle
I just couldn’t discard
Somehow I was happy
He was my invisible friend
We sure had adventures
Nighttime I was safe
He would guard the window
Be would both gaze at the stars
I would talk and he sure knew how to listen
These memories bring me smiles even now

Is the universe that strange?
Are we all related so, objects, minds and souls?
All I know, is maybe I better stick around
Have a soda
Savoring my youthful days
When all my friends came around to play
Yelling Ricky, come on out, it’s a beautiful day!
Baseball was always fun back then
I always had my soda pop bottle in my bag
Surrounded by friends and so so content

As I contemplate life
I am somewhat amazed
That the ghost from the Christmas past
Is no illusions after all
Chains be dammed, I am set free
I awake with a new vigor
To a new year

Notes: First I recommend to read Orange Crush The adventures of Soda Pop by Richard Lamoureux, all of them are a series. So, I added my dark side, and a wee bit of Charles Dickens at the end, as he like Richard used to write stores in series like this. I thought it unique to combine these 3 ideas in one!

I took the character of Ricky, aged him, and had him look back in time!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
Everyone has gone home
Where ever home is
The city is bare
Only me
And the call girl left
We share our secrets
In silence
Comrades in despair
The cold winter chills us all
So we two find comfort
In a passing moment
She kisses her past
I kiss my desires
Our tongues kiss our dreams
A Christmas carol plays in the background
Snow begins to fall
Madeline must now go
On another call

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Concrete |
Run freely, easily, bare feet in field. Flowers smelling sweetly. Many a treasure lies concealed. Only on close inspection it will yield sun drenched nooks and crannies of unexpected fun. Under craggy rock, verdant glade revealed flora and fauna sceptre wield. Satisfaction barely. Weary soul healed completely. Merely run! I am in a trance Pont Neuf Allons-y! Bises-moi, monadorée! jangling amulets sold at market moths flit in the gathering dusk – a belfry of bats feasts the smell of the sea is overpowered by the watermelon fragrance of newly mowed lawn the cherry blossoms wither in morning sun – green buds appear bowls of chipped enamel singing loudly - rain brought us huddling together for warmth. My heart rips as in an icy gale while your joyful smile melts the pale. spring blossom lavender scented morning flowers are nodding in breeze at window Cherry blossom stones reveal core beauty, reminder of transient spring. trees laden I have yearned the last colour Pink Lady encapsulating autumn milk bottles in a huddle on the step – a blue tit pecks the foil dusty windowpanes protect against the wind chill – raindrops streak the view The lit candle flickering in darkening room, casts shadows formerly unseen; amplifying the sinister darkness around me, which makes me wonder if it is the light I’m seeking, or the comfort of ignorance? blush gazing out at gilded statues flashing heritage The City Of Lights reflected mesmerise the Seine is sparkling like your blue eyes I can’t tear my gaze from your sensual kissable mouth My thoughts gallop in a sea of confusion. Reality swims at the ocean’s edge of consciousness.
A collage of my poetry over the past 3 years. Happy Christmas to PoetrySoup. ~Su

Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |


Canticle of merriment rings out the silver of bells a tingle, a jingle chiming wispy notes across frosty mist, as hands clasp with a pealed language warbling the same holiday bliss: ‘let there be peace on this earth’ while ornamental dingers trill on pines, and around fireplaces. Seasons cannot duplicate the joy of Yuletide’s awakening, for tassels of glorious cheer spill to herald a reign of winter’s Light, dressed in tinseled varnish... until the silver of evening bells tolls when heaven greets mankind, and mankind greets Emmanuel’s heaven! ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Kelly Deschler’s Contest: Christmas Carols 12/13/2015

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
Listen to the tinsel in the wind leading to enlist love and peace through all inlets of silent nights .
inspired by Silent One's anagram 's contest-The word is Silent (silent ,tinsel, Inlets , enlist ,listen )not for the contest.

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |
COUNTDOWN TO CHRISTMAS


The Mad Season is now upon
us
Christmas is the ‘buzz word’
The time when women start
panicking
The chaos is really absurd.

The shops are bedecked with
holly
Bright lights and baubles 
abound 
But housewives have time for
no merriment
They’re on the ‘Stress’ 
merry-go-round.

They are manically shopping
for presents
Which then have to be carefully
wrapped,
It’s a tiresome task – Christmas
shopping
When energy is rapidly sapped!

There’s a long list of Christmas
food buying;
The turkey, stuffing and veg,
The baking of innumerable mince
pies
For Santa when he arrives on his
sledge.

The Christmas pud to be 
brandied
The cake to be artfully iced,
Potatoes, Brussels and 
parsnips
Which have to be washed,
peeled and sliced.

There’s the laundering of
piles of bed sheets
For guests when they come
to stay,
And the cooking of a big
‘fry-up’
For those breakfasting the
next day.

The Yule log to make and
the trifle,
With cream, sponges, custard
and jelly.
A woman’s work’s never done
at Christmas,
No time for watching the telly!

There’s the large ham that has
to be boiled,
Salads to prepare with coleslaw,
Whilst the brain is constantly
nagging:
‘What on earth is all this fuss
for?’

The ‘to do’ list goes on for
ever
With the Christmas tree
still to buy,
There’s never a moment to
linger,
Time just keeps whizzing on
by!

Retrieving the dust 
‘decorations’ from the attic,
Arranging the candles on the
fireplace,
Decking the halls out with
holly
And garlands along the 
staircase.

The writing of mass Christmas
cards,
The first ten written with
care,
The rest done with barely a
scribble –
A symptom of festive despair!

Then blotted and put into
envelopes,
Then licked, sealed and 
painstakingly stamped,
And shoved wearily through
the letterbox 
That is already quite over-
cramped!

Christmas Day itself is
Exhausting,
A million more things
still to do,
After cooking the over-
large 
There’s a mountain of
washing to get through!

And when you think that
the worst is all over
And your guests then on
Boxing Day leave,
You are back stressing 
down at the supermarket
To buy MORE food for New
Year’s Eve!

So whilst I’m not really a
killjoy,
I enjoy Christmas as much
as I can,
But if I ever come back
another time in this life
I think I’ll come back as a
man!

BY
DARRYL ASHTON                  
     

Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
(To the tune of Silver Bells) Wooden sidewalks, and the shop fronts, Dressed in wild western style In the jail there’s a feeling of Christmas Cattle mooing, cowboys shooting Riding mile after mile And down at the Long Branch you hear Silver spurs, silver spurs It’s Christmas time in Dodge City Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing Soon it will be Christmas day. Mobs in street fights try to stay polite While they bleed red and scream As the towns folk rush home To take cover Hear the jaws crunch See the kids bunch It’s Matt Dillon’s big scene As he catches the rustlers you’ll hear Silver spurs, silver spurs It’s Christmas time in Dodge City Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing Soon it will be Christmas day. Silver spurs, silver spurs Soon it will be Christmas day. Soon it will be Christmas day.
When we travel in the car we sing to the radio. The other night, Silver Bells came on and I sang Dodge City to make my wife laugh.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose |
Cardboard boxes, full of surprises; celebratory treasures rest, beneath the evergreen branches; stacks of color. Bellies smiling, hiding delectable, culinary delights. My child-heart swells with joy, while palates dance a waltz. Emotion rides on clouds of serotonin. Christmas builds another miraculous memory and the old year, ends with elation. My taste buds are sent sailing on a warm sea, of cocoa and cinnamon spice.

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
Merry Christmas and all that stuff and don’t forget to write, Now if you would all be on your way I’d like a silent night. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed your stay, I have you must believe me, I just wish that it were over now because your leaving would relieve me. I’d like to say that the magic of this day would be with me until I die, But out of respect for the holiday I feel that it would be wrong to lie. I’ve spent the time following you around and picking up after your kids, Putting food back in the refrigerator and closing up all of the lids. I’ve even picked up your smelly socks after making Christmas dinner, While you’ve all gotten fat it seems that I’ve grown that much thinner. But when next year comes you’d better be here to visit with Santa Claus, Don’t tell me that you’ll spend Christmas time over at your in-laws. Because Christmas is a family time and we all should be together, And you can tell your in-laws that you’ll be theirs on Arbor Day forever.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |
What is that
in our western sky
some kind of star
coming near by

it's radiance seems
as bright as the sun
but bowing to the night
it's beauty for reason

so compelling that
star in the sky
it's dazzling light
amazes my eye's

that star without words
beacons me to follow
my soul being bared
for something sacred and hollowed

Yes that is the star
our ancestors spoke of
i can see it with my eye's
that star is filled with love

quick quick hurry let's go
follow that star
where ever it goes

weather near 
or weather far
no matter what 
follow that star

for it was told
by ancient and old
that star would bring
our God and King

can't you see
this wonderful thing
Gods birth on earth
is where this star beams

there in the distance
gathered are the shepards
the lowly lowly shepards
soon to be joined by kings

"all men of the earth"
the angels did sing

to such a lowly place
this star did us bring
to a child born 
in the company cattle
but worshiped by kings
accompanied by the light
of that stars wonderful beam

a lowly lowly place
for the birth of the King of Kings
the place long for told
as the birth place of the King

we were humbled
by the mystery of this birth

this is the way 
God would visit earth

with lowly shepards
under a bright bright star
humbled to be like us
to be near not far

Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
Friends: Poetry Soupers,
Brethren of literary troopers,

I pray God to do my best
to wish us all a Christmas blest,

And if our loves ideas and bents
are not the same,
Perhaps we can meditate on
from whence we came.

At least in that light be together,
As Birds of a poetic feather.

I extend to you an olive branch
carried by peaceful Dove, 
And wish you
Mercy ,Wisdom and Love.

 We pray you have, Poetry Soupers 
 A joyous Christmas and happy New Year
May God bless All His literary troopers.

Copyright © Robert A. Dufresne | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |
A HOME I never knew a home; Christmas, any holiday were words, merely words. Looking from the outside in. A child, seeing lights, balls, trees, presents, but most of all: family life. Warm feelings coursing me, A longing so unknown, A wish so deep, a wish to be. Only, I still don't. Winter used to be cold, inside and out. The house an unfriendly place. Feeling like a visitor, A child, craving warmth of family life. Wanting to belong somewhere. Silent words on paper form A longing deeply seated. Inside all my feelings storm, Melting hearts, heated This year I have a home; my sister embraces me to her house and her family. No more outside, but in. For once a child, and I can stay and I can celebrate and enjoy family life Small tokens in my happy hands. Wrapping paper, tape, smiles, Christmas tree, love lands. Peace, after years of trials. *** 8th place in contest: THE HEART OF CHRISTMAS Sponsor: Mystic Rose

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
The bright Christmas lights on my city house are so colorful and traditional,
hopefully when I get my high utility bill I won't become too irrational,
and watching everyone open up their gifts makes me want to sigh,
also hoping that when I get the credit card bills I won't start to cry,

And the Christmas room has edible fumes of the eating variety kind,
with the holiday weight I gain ending up in my butt and thighs,
while getting a white Christmas is something I always wished for,
but not slipping on the slippery steps when walking out the front door,

A different group of Christmas carolers singing out front in my yard,
all of them sounding very off key like a cat getting strangled,
and not having money to give them gave them some pie I baked,
most of them getting sick from it Betty Crocker I aint,

Going Christmas shopping and getting stuck in the holiday traffic,
and trying to find a parking spot at the mall was really quite baffling,
having to sit there and wait till I saw a shopper getting ready to leave,
another car beat me to the spot while I sat there and sneezed,

So I decided to move far away from the hustle and the bustle,
wheres all I have to worry about is what is that woodland noisy rustle,
could be a black bear, coyote, wolf or a moose,
and when I get my mail every day have to run so they don't bite my big caboose,

But thats ok I'm starting to feel at home for the holidays in the hills,
getting used to the 8 foot snow drifts and the night time animal shrills,
while getting into my vehicle can be quite an ordeal,
running like a fugitive till I get inside of it in my camouflage gear,

But I have a plan B just in case living in the hills doesn't all work out,
I'll just move to Florida where the humidity and big bugs will bother me no doubt,
where I'll buy my own little house hopefully sinkhole free and keep it fumigated,
and pretend to have a white Christmas even though its 85 degrees out while getting chased by an alligator.


Happy Holidays Everyone!
12-24-16

Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Santa traveled from house to house,
spreading his toys, quiet as a mouse.
Down the chimney his Christmas trick,
his big red bag to empty real quick.

A pause to enjoy a sweet Santa treat,
milk and cookies can never be beat.
But wait, a note to Santa this table,
written to Santa by the young boy Able.

Dear Santa,
I thank you for your visit tonight,
I'm sure you filled our tree just right.
The world is a scary place just now,
I want you safe and I figured out how.
Please take my solider on your trip tonight,
brave and strong to keep trouble from sight.
Love Able

One tin soldier did indeed there stand,
a bit play worn and tattered by hand.
Santa last Christmas brought Able this toy,
his most wanted gift had said this boy.

Santa smiled and thought for a bit,
then finger to nose for some magic to get.
The little tin soldier snapped to attention,
lay his rifle to ground without mention.

You, my grand soldier, will travel with me,
spreading to all a message, my plea.
Peace on earth this Christmas night,
let the children fear not and sleep in delight.

May man use this time to find in his heart,
a seed to be planted, a time to restart.
Let man love man your message to be,
ride at my side, herald peace for me.

One little tin soldier flew through the night,
spreading peace and goodwill in Santa's flight.
From roof top to roof top on Christmas Eve,
the greatest gift peace, love, hope to believe.


12/21/16 ©

Copyright © Robert Stoner Jr | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |
DECEMBER 2015 - "For what is our hope, our joy, or the crown, in which we glory in the presence of our Lord Jesus when He comes?" 1 Thessalonians 2:19

This year America waits,
With great anticipation.
For peace, love and joy,
Throughout the nation.

Christians are under attack,
For what is in their heart.
Hatred fills the air,
Our nation torn apart.

Death in our schools,
Murder on the streets.
Hurry, Jesus, we pray,
Before their goal is complete.

Freedom Religion,
A promise written true.
Not it's only if you follow theirs,
Christians know not what tio do.

We read more every day,
How we must suffer for His Cause.
Evil ones in control,
they pass the laws.

There was a time in history,
It was so long ago.
God sent His Only Son,
To teach us how to go.

In a humble stable He was born,
Written Word said it would be.
People given a reason to believe,
Praised Him in songs of victory.

We are lost without His son,
The Bright Star for all to see.
Please give us another sign,
To set Your People free.

RAYMOND V. MORGAN






Copyright © Raymond Morgan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
I mean you no harm I just want to soothe the pain like a balm And cause you to be calm Here, take my hand Let’s sit here and listen to the band Let’s watch them play our favorite song Oh…it’s been soooo long! They play music so good It feeds my soul like food Here we are at night Listening to good Christmas tunes under the moonlight I know how sad you are You gaze at me but you seem so far Don’t let a broken heart cause you to forget… …to forget the sweet melody of life Cast away the knife Don’t bruise your heart some more Let the tears pour But don’t let them pour forever Don’t let them win…never! Look…you are worth more that diamonds I can write this on the wall with crayons “You are beautiful! You are loved! You are strong! You are blessed! You will be fine! This too shall pass!” So, cheer up Chin up Don’t give up You will be fine Just give it time In the meantime… …let’s sway to this beautiful Christmas melody Oh! Such sweet sweet melody! You will be fine, my darling! You will be fine! By Sylvia Chika sylviachika@gmail.com http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/ http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/ https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog Instagram: @sylviachikawrites BBM Channel: C002F2845 Twitter:@sylviaoz © 2016 Sylvia Chika

Copyright © Sylvia Chika | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |
I’ve not written to you for many years Santa, I’m quite different from my peers Not fancy or frilly like girly girls And I don’t hanker for diamonds and pearls Today I got the most terrible news My muse abandoned me. She's on a cruise!!! She’ll be sailing around the world for years I'm bereft and can’t stem my salty tears Oh Santa dear, please take pity on me I need a skilled muse to write poetry I’m heartbroken without her by my side Could you bring one to me on this Yuletide It would be the most perfect Christmas gift Please tell me that this year I won't get stiffed! ~ ~ ~ ~ You may not have my name at this address But Santa, it’s time for me to confess I've been on your naughty list all this year I'm the one who put Ex Lax in your beer And I thought while you were stuck in my loo I'd try to tempt you in my basque of blue But you clutched your tummy. You looked quite sick With loo roll in hand, you ran out so quick You chastised me as you dribbled brown gloop Said you’d seen my name at Poetry Soup! You'd read my poems and you wouldn't be hard With my dire style, I’m no threat to the Bard Last Christmas was such a catastrophe I apologise, will you forgive me? ~ ~ ~ ~ I’ve divulged to all how I’ve misbehaved and beg the laxative mishap be waived (You’ve not visited since I was a child when my behaviour ran totally wild!) I’ve taken my punishment on the chin Bitter medicine swallowed for my sin If you can find forgiveness in your heart I will try my best to make a fresh start Santa, please deliver just one present... A new muse would make my life more pleasant My old one left and she might not return My pen is poised; for witty words I yearn A contest win with Phillip Garcia Would rekindle my poetic career! From My Lips To Santa's Ears Contest Sponsored by Phillip Garcia 10 syllables per line checked with How many Syllables 12-05-17

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017

Details | Light Poetry |
Make us some sunshine for Christmas Santa
It's mighty gloomy here, grey clouds over head
Put the color back into the day and moon light in the night
Bring me a tender heart and may kind words overflow

Santa you can bring it, bring it like no other
Call on the heavens to roll back the clouds
Warm my muscles and calm the aches
I won't ask for nothin' else Santa

Just put a warm glow in the sky!

Copyright © Doris Culverhouse | Year Posted 2009

Details | Light Poetry |
It's a time to pack away your sad face,
And slow down the race
To a walking pace.

It's time remember the good life,
Put away your knife,
And do something nice.

It's a time to play your part,
By showing you have a heart,
So, others won't depart.

It's time to hold off on the advice,
And with your cooking entice,
All but the mice.

It's time to be a good elf,
Not think of yourself,
And come down off the shelf.

It's time to spread some joy around your neighbourhood,
Even with the local hood,
It could do you both some good.


Copyright © David Smith | Year Posted 2017

Details | Light Poetry |
Christmas time was here again
It comes so fast these years
'Ole McGee sat with his wife
As she was moved to tears

Their children both had moved away
Its years since they've been home
And now sweet Mary and McGee
Sit by their tree alone

Suddenly McGee stood up
And made a mournful grown
Walked across a creaking floor
To the table with the phone

He called his daughter
And he said, "I had it, and we're through
We're getting a divorce, my dear
And there's nothing you can do"  

"You can't be leaving mom, she said
"And what's this all about
Don't do nothing rash, please dad
I'll take the first plane out"

Before McGee hung up the phone
Said ," tell your brother too
And if he wants to have his say
He can come along with you"

She said " We'll be there in the morning
As McGee hung up the phone
Then walked back to his chair
And sat there on his throne

Then Mary asked McGee,
As she wiped away a tear
"What was that all about
I couldn't hear my dear "

McGee looked up surprised 
"Oh you mean that on the phone ?
Well let's just say this Christmas,
Our kids are coming home".


Copyright © Jerry T Curtis | Year Posted 2017

Details | Light Poetry |
Santa! Oh, Santa! Please listen to me. It’s for Dragon! I’m begging you, please!
Dragon didn't mean to be naughty! He’s crying! He’s even down, on his knees!
Christmas is coming! He wants to be nice! Heaven knows what, he’ll do next!
It’s been quite a week! Beyond his control! And, of course, you know, the rest!

First, he swooped in to help an old Lady, as she tried to walk across a street.
But the wind from his wings; caught her and blew her away, and into a heap!
He volunteered: as a candy stripper, helping patients, at a hospital, without reward.
No smoking allowed, with the seriously ill, his Fire blew up, that one LITTLE ward.

He raked all the leaves for old Mister Brown, for free; who was so very, pleased. 
He gave Dragon an at-a boy! And added a slap on his back, making him sneeze. 
Which startled a spark, from Dragons great mouth. It’s a pity… what they say…
Mr. Brown’s house won’t be finished rebuilding, till… next spring and a day.

Dragon helped with the neighborhood school playground… monitoring the swings.
Upon hearing the comment, “I want to go higher”, they found Space, was achieved.
Now, sad and so lost, Dragon checked out a place, Google Earth had blurred out…
Jets forced him down, it was a secret location, now wiki-leaks-men run, all about.

At an Old Folks Picnic, Dragon grabbed 2 oldsters, then sat on a 3rd, one windy day.
Stopping them from being blown away, the 3rd leaves intensive care, soon, they say.
Baby sitting, a baby that kept crying, Dragon grew so upset, smoke billowed forth.
The firemen decided, until his smoke is under control, ‘no babysitting’, henceforth!

Santa is great! This we all definitely know! To get all these problems under control... 
He said ‘don’t try so hard!’ As he found Dragon’s heart not only nice, but pure gold! 
Peace was ensured, as he sent Dragon home… for his family to enjoy, and to enfold!  
Now life will be better, for all! I’m sure!… Or so I do hope, to behold!

But… Pardon me, Santa… Did you just… say?… He’s officially nice, in your view?
Santa, perhaps a warning is due. His wish list, 2 miles long, is coming to you!
For all, it’d been quite a week, mission accomplished, as Santa gave a knowing wink!
‘Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas! Peace on Earth’, even with Dragon around, me-thinks.

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.

Copyright © VICTOR BUN | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
"Santa's Helper" is a children's song, sung to the tune of "I'm a Little Teapot".

I am Santa's helper;
Look at me,
Wrapping presents
Merrily.

Soon it will be Christmas...
Don't you know?
Gotta' get Santa's sleigh
Ready to go!

Author's Note: "Santa's Helper" makes a good activity song for children:

I am Santa's helper;
Look at me, (child points to himself)
Wrapping presents (child mimics wrapping gifts)
Merrily. (child smiles)

Soon it will be Christmas... (child points to calendar or clock)
Don't you know? (child holds hands out to sides and shrugs shoulders)
Gotta' get Santa's sleigh
Ready to go! (child mimics stuffing a sleigh with toys)

Copyright © Cherie Durbin | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |
The Magic of Christmas


The night before Christmas
When all through the house
Was silent
Even all the dead mouse
I lay there so quiet
Inside the stove
My face contorted
White as snow
The Christmas lights outside
Shining bright
On guard and not letting any one in
They may after all see the fright
I am sure my feet twitched in the air
A final dance of sorts
Please let no one despair
The magic of Christmas filled my soul
I realized I had no where else at all to go

Oh Holy Night
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZ-8jYpa1-o

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |

To the cook: 
Thank you for the main course at our beautiful Christmas dinner ...... 
now you can rest, dessert is on the table.
And I'll do the dishes.


19.12.2012
A-L  Andresen :)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
There’s a little known fact about the North Pole.
Now Santa’s a Dragon, you really should know.
Now think about this and it will become clear.
Santa, like Dragons, is so very magical my dear.

In the very least, Santa has to be… at least partly so.
He’s just a SNOW Dragon, now wouldn’t you know?
He only comes south… in the deepest of wintertime.
And he brings along the snow for good girls and boys.

Now, I wouldn’t lie! I know… that honestly, it’s true!
I call him the Solstice Santa; for he brings winter, its true!
Think! Who brings those sleds when you’re snug in bed?
It’s the Dragon reindeer… Who can fly, high thru the air!

Now, think my dear friend… and you will know that it’s so.
Who loves havoc more, than a mischievous Dragon’s soul?
How come there’s always snow, as they land on your roof?
Because Snow Dragons can breath snow… Lickety Split!

And Dragons love fun… so here come all those Great toys.
Yep, they, too, were made by mischievous, DRAGON guys!
And just where, do you think, my Dragon egg came from?
Grandpa Troll came south, with it, yep, from the North Pole!

When Dragon is grown… Where do you think he wants to go?
Naturally, first North, to visit Dragon Santa, at the North pole.
Gee, the world is spinning, and Grandpa Troll is laughing, too!
No! Say it isn’t true! Grandpa Troll? Did you spike the eggnog?

Again this year? Well, it WAS a beautiful dream… That’s true!
And Merry Christmas, out there, to all you wonderful, You’s!!

Written 12-8-2014 by Carol Eastman It's Iambic something...
Don't know iambic what... Can you guys help me here? What would 
you call it?

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
Dragon was in the park one day, and wanted to touch a rainbow. Yes siree’!
But no matter how close he got… It kept running ahead of him, you see.
Are rainbows really, so Shy? Why won’t he let me touch him? He did cry!
Doesn’t he really like me at all? Dragon being broken hearted; said it all.

I’m going somewhere over the rainbow, So Don’t bother to tell me, I can’t!
Aren’t I a mythological Dragon, aren’t I supposed to do what others can’t?
But, even little Dragons have limits, and, yes, he eventually found that out.
It totally broke his little heart, and mine, as he wandered so very hurt, about.

Cheer up, little dragon, I said as I cuddled him, as he lay down, and he did cry. 
The rainbow loves you; see how he sends those colors, through the air, so high.
Long ago, when he left his Mama, and first came here from the rings of Saturn.
Many tried to steal his essence, but at the last moment, someone saved him.

Some said he was a Great man, others a Wizard, with a kind and gentle hand.
Now, no man may capture the rainbow, no matter how fast, or bold, they ran.
The Man that saved the Day, was from then on, called Santa Clause, my dear.
The rainbow gave Santa a gift, to be able to fly, and spread Christmas cheer.

And yes, also to the reindeer, which helped him, I do say to you, quite clear.
And like the rainbow, Santa and the reindeer, will never grow old, you hear?
If you see Santa fly thru the sky, you will see streaks from the little rainbow.
For they became such great and fast friends, on that day so very long ago…

Now they all celebrating Christmas together, with all the little girls and boys.
And the true meaning of Christmas is not lost on them, as they hand out toys.
For they are celebrate the birth of Christ…as they give and receive joy.
Now as Santa would say ‘Merry Christmas to all and to all a Very Good Night!’

Written 12-19-2015

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014