Christmas. Poems - Poems about Christmas.

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...

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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. ...

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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...

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Son, please stay home for Christmas day, You are often out in trouble and out at play; Let's celebrate with our kith and kin Sharing some cookies and hot tea Sitting by the fire or near the tree; Stay home for Christmas, son Set aside your plans of running away Stick around with us, remain with me....

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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. ...

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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....

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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. ...

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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...

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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...

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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,...

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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...

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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...

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Men in tailored suits and satin waistcoats, gold watches peeking out of their pockets, walked arm in arm with women in wide skirts ~ hooped, crinolined, elegantly sculpted. Their tight corsets tease each careful traipse, leaving traces of elegance and opulence... dotting the streets at Christmastime with exaggerated silhouettes. They kissed under mistletoe ~ hung in doorways, each kiss claiming a berry until none were...

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Out in the streets, A Church bell cries Under a misletoe, A couple shares a delightful surprise Marking the advent of dusk Streetlights ignite Flaunting the excitements Of the christmas that lies A family joins around the christmas tree, Ready to enjoy their company on this charming eve Handmade gifts light jubilant smiles Changing time on tiny sun dials Laughs and smiles come to a subtle...

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There's no stocking stuffed with presents No punch bowl filled with cheer We haven't got the tree, that We didn't buy this year No, turkey or a Ham Nor chestnuts on the fire No cookies filled with jam Or puddings to desire Chorus No friends and no family We're all alone at last No ghost from Christmas Future Present or the Past ...

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