Long Crèche Poems
Long Crèche Poems. Below are the most popular long Crèche by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Crèche poems by poem length and keyword.
RHYME TIME III - CHRISTMAS
The unique shape of each frosty snowflake,
tapping on the window, as cookies bake.
I can smell the buttery sugar and Winter break,
Grandma’s batter creamed with sunny yolks.
Old-fashioned buggies arrive carrying folks.
The horses shake with bells and ladies’ cloaks,
as snow thickens on branches of old-timer oaks.
Broad smiling and busy hands, carrying platters -
turkey, ham, and fixings with holiday clatter.
Such a peaceful time where only love matters.
Blissful, ruddy faces with winsome chatter.
Kids tugging on Santa’s whiskers to test
if he is daddy or Uncle John. So blessed
by a red velvet bag, gifting the best,
and yet there in the crèche- a beloved guest.
All bow their heads for the thanksgiving prayer,
remembering the spirit of one so rare.
A star that led shepherds and magi to share
a moment with the savior, who created with care
the unique shape of each frosty snowflake.
12/12/2017
Laura Loo’s Rhyme Time III Contest
Green, spruce tree with ornaments to spare
Turquoise lights gleam and brightly flare
Crimson stockings are bulging with a sweeter fare
Purple, velvet bows spliced on presents with care
Blue garlands hung de rigueure
Bronze crèche our faith to bare
Chartreuse curtains with glittering trim rim our festive lair
White, twinkling lights border each burgundy stair
Safron, satin pillows delicately line each sofa and chair
Black, porcelain lacquerware liberally distributed, pomp and circumstance to declare
Oranges and apples with waxy glint in gilded fruit bowl adds flair
Golden calabria accentuates the tableware
Silver platters glisten and glare
Platinum cutlery paired for the hallowed affair
Yellow, spicy nog with all our guests we'll share
The night was dark the moon in hiding, squeals and giggles around the streets
All the children dressed in costume begging sweets on trick or treat.
None dared to go to Lonely Street, no treat could entice them there
The legend of the cloaked man with a staff still lingered in the air.
The riches of the gilded street does not welcome Halloween footfall
Lonely Street would remain so, this year none would call.
The legend said the cloak-ed man glides along the street
None heard footfall, as he followed those indulging in trick or treat.
A blood curdling scream assaulted the ears, followed by another
Children ran and scattered, screams and tears they could not smother.
Along Lonely Street the cloak-ed man was heard to give a laugh
“Why scream my little ones?” in his hand he raised a staff.
“You are here to celebrate the waking, and walking of the dead
Come hither my little ones this is what tradition has said.
You dress as ghosts and spirits long gone, begging for some treats
But then when somebody refuses you, you trick them, that is weak.”
To do this on the night that we, the dead awake
You should surely know its time for us to teach you your fate…
I am here to collect all your souls, you will join us in the flesh
You celebrate and dress to please now you will visit the devils crèche.
He raised his staff high, his cloak opened wide
With a howling wind the children were blown inside
His cloak was full of all the souls of the young
Their screams were heard, to the night they clung.
No more was there a Halloween night in that area or surrounding
The souls on Lonely streets stay in and still their hearts are pounding.
The Cloak-ed man is waiting; he is waiting each year on Lonely Street
For the sound of children laughing as they dress as ghosts on trick or treat…
© 29/08/2012.
" No child should feel uncared, unloved, thrown away"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was a time when mothers were not working
Mother would be with kids taking care, instilling good values
Children felt loved and secure
Now a days most women are working
Kids are left at crèche or home,
Their parents have no time for them
What will be the value system of such children?
What will be the future of nation if children without moral values run it?
Such kids learn all bad habits, no one to correct to them.
They roam about in search of love, they are depressed
This is one of the main cause of growing violence, suicides,
selfish humans who don't know what it is to love and care
Why give birth to a child when you have no time?
Why spoil a child's life?
27th February 2021
Inspired by :
Contest Name : Vanishing" old or new for a prize
Sponsor : Carolyn Devonshire
2nd position
Like a shaft I fly,
a beam of glorious luminance,
I travel right into your bedroom
at the break of dawn.
"Wake up my friend,
my brothers are coming
to illuminate your day."
Minute follows minute
my duties I perform,
I peep through gaps
of a Venetian blind,
as someone on a bed
lies lazily supine.
I am his wake up call,
dazzle straight
into his heavy sleepy eyes.
"Get up my friend,
work beckons."
'Tis busy at the crèche
Where babies bare their hearts.
I breathe some warmth
upon their frail frames,
paint rosy their cheeks
in the faint hope
that some kind beings
would adopt
these poor unsettled souls.
Through a windowpane,
glass stained with holy men,
I filter hopefully and in stealth,
on a cold spotlight on a marble slab
of someone long forgotten
in an unfrequented church.
Would you consider night
as my immortal enemy?
Oh no, my friend, oh no,
for in the darkness of the gloom,
over choppy and rough seas
I travel happily over peril
and show the way to safety
to mariners lost at sea,
I am a beacon of hope.
Age can never erase memories of yore,
For there's an old but lovely song still rambling
In my head as I love to go a wandering
Along the vales or up the mountain sides,
Fetching flora, photographing fauna and sampling
Wildflowers, collecting leaves fancy or plain.
Study trees, evergreen or autumnal bare.
How I loved to stop near some clear rill.
There would be daffodils I’m sure up on some hill.
Checked which song birds choose to build their cosy nests,
Birds picking up small or curvy twigs with care.
Even today I ramble along the vast countryside,
Sometimes I rest, imbibing the air so fresh,
Watch some little children playing joyfully
With young nuns in front the impoverished crèche.
Bells ring from a chapel calling for prayer,
I join trusting my sins the good Lord would spare.
Mistletoe and Christmas go hand in hand
The mistletoe and its beautiful cherries
Christmas carols and bells, bright stars and pine trees
With light snowfall can create a winter wonderland.
What a spectacle of lights and divine beauty
The whole world celebrates awesomely
The birthday of Jesus Christ born in Africa
What a shock for the entire Diaspora!
Baby Jesus was different, that’s why
From the crèche they wanted to sacrifice and crucify
Him, their goal was to kill Him like a goat
Which they did, but He returned. It’s time to gloat.
The Messiah can be a subject of controversies
Deceptions, propaganda, polemics and inconsistencies
Oh! This is Noël, let’s rejoice and enjoy the feasts
At least and at last in this joyous season, let’s live in peace.
Copyright © December 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.