Christmas Poems | Examples of Christmas Poetry

A Christmas Carol 24-12-2023

It was in a land many many years ago,
underneath the festive lights and fleeting snow
that a yuletide tale of love and hope
was sang like a ballad and spread like smoke.

Her eyes, a midnight blue and sprinkled with gold
and his, silvery, that flashed like tinsel.
In mutual company they found a home,
a melody sweet where their hearts

Raindrops on Roses

in the square, light encircled
choristers of yule
who incanted charmingly
as the dew sank cool
on their rouge berets,
cardinal cloaks with green socks—
a cordant bouquet

No Toilets In The Sky - 2025 - slightly gross

Santa’s doing Tinkles as he travels on his way
Sprinkling golden showers ’cross the moonlit sky today
He has no private place to pee which fills him with dismay
For there’s no public toilets... in the Milky Way

Santa’s got his legs crossed cos he’s been out on the beer
His guts are throwing tantrums and he wishes home was

White Wilderness

I recall the yelling but silent voice of winter
that broken December when the lights from
lanterns shot up from their wicks with the
fading strength of departing glows abroad.

Twilights hastened through the spine of
receding days, halting the approach of a
wayward Christmas.
The wilderness around us yielded froths from a
puking snowstorm,
fastening laces of Hell with strings of abundant
sleet.

The Loneliest Elf

He was Santa's unknown Elf
That they hid in a thicket
Cuz he worked all by himself 
They called him Chimney Cricket 

On the night of Christmas Eve 
He's the first one down the chute
Using nothing but his sleeve
So not to soil Santa's suit

When finishing his cookie
Santa's up the chute again 
Every day since a rookie
He was

Christmas In July

I'm sorry I didn't bring 
roses to your funeral. 

I brought a Christmas 
wreath instead. 

I didn't want to symbolize 
your withering, 

I wanted to represent your 
eternity, 

and the joy you brought 
others instead.

The Postman

He schleps constantly at noon
Through declivities and straight roads,
Bearing messages sealed by the hands
That laid them bare in the first place.
Sweat caresses his face, forming one mass of
Earnestness in every breath of delivery.
“Hello,” he says, “your mail. Your package.”
My palm breathes harder, having neared his.
I sign the delivery paper and reach out for the
Package.
He is

Finger Print

He was deeply worried,
A problem lay within,
Buried in the depths of his heart,
Countless slaves in his possession.  
He wanted to control
All of them, he needed
A unique identity for each.
Suddenly, he struck upon
The idea of a fingerprint.

White Wilderness

I recall the yelling but silent voice of winter
that broken December when the lights from
lanterns shot up from their wicks with the
fading strength of departing glows abroad.

Twilights hastened through the spine of
receding days, halting the approach of a
wayward Christmas.
The wilderness around us yielded froths from a
puking snowstorm,
fastening laces of Hell with strings of abundant
sleet.

Christmas Eve Performance

Three armed teens 
performed a mugging on Christmas eve.
Their target 2A'D them
curing them of their social disease.

By next morning they set up a go fund me 
for the dead and wounded thieves.
Their target was charged in the second degree.

When I was a teen, 
we banged on doors and toilet papered trees...
and felt somewhat guilty.

Victorian Christmas Eve

There is happy ado on the old farmstead as Yuletide draws nigh!
Wondrous things to savor as gales blow and snow begins to fly!
The tempest rages for days - they will surely be snowbound,
But a blazing fire warms the Victorian home - love and cheer abound!

Since early in July Pa has had his eye on a

Victorian Christmas Past

Upon a grassy hill, so long ago,
our lovely, old Victorian-style home
was built in eighteen eighty-six, aglow
with cozy rooms and firesides burning bright. 
So charming were the winding stairs that flared
neath the cathedral ceiling's chandelier.
Outdoors, a rolling lawn and gardens spread
beside a stony brook that rambled on.

A time I still remember- Christmas Day
in nineteen fifty-three- age

A Christmas Poem

Ring ting ting-a-ling,
Its that jolly old fat man
With a belly full of jelly,
And that jingle from long long ago...
Ding-dong, ding-dong--
It's that sleigh of reindeer who fly in the sky
That laughter and singing from below and on high--
This is the season
To have a good reason
Ring ting ting-a-ling,
To forget others transgressions and petty deceptions
To join the happy,

Fireworks

They rise and sparkle and crackle,
Shaming the nakedness of the skies
And the city, with one frightful flame of
Youth,
Burning with the zest of
Seasonal lore.
At Christmas, they salute the days
Creamed by snow and sleet,
Thrusting in us the wisdom of
Global ceremonies.
They are the lightning of Yuletide —
Lightning unaccompanied by rain.
Shaped in balls and spears, and lean
Fragments of flagrant

Christmas

Christmas is a long song sung in winter,
An epic poem written with white quill feather pen and
Gold ink, and on clouds of paper,
Beginning from a sneezing December to a
Dizzying twelfth-calendar month,
When snow drizzles gently into the souls of
Those who hearken to the tinkling sound of
The church bell which rings gently with the weight of
The slow-passing

Read wonderful christmas poetry on the following sub-topics: angels, beautiful, bethlehem, caroling, celebration, children, commercial, december, family, family reunion, funny, goodwill, jesus, jolly, merry, mistletoe, noel, inspiration, reindeer, religious, rhyme, santa claus, student, summer, winter, yule, yuletide, and more.

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