Christmas Prose Poems | Examples
These Christmas Prose poems are examples of Prose poems about Christmas. These are the best examples of Prose Christmas poems written by international poets.
Every year, people of a humble community living in the 88th Street of Bangkulasi are gathered inside a church. And each year, eighty-eight candles are being litted by children with disability, kids with less than ten fingers and very few assisted kids with no natural fingers at all.
One purpose of lighting the candles is for Thanksgiving. And again on or before Christmas Day before the end of the year.
There are eighty-eight sticks in a standard piano -- 88 tones being played and heard by churchgoers, participants and volunteers as they sing the church hymns.
The eighty-eight litted candles can represent many other things, depending on how people see and interpret things around them.
One child asked the priest, "Of all numbers, why '88' ?"
HE'S HERE AND SO ARE WE
Merry Christmas y'all,
Gifting you with Peace and Love;
Harvested from Christ:-
The antiquated train station in Omaha could make a marvelous house
Are you kidding? My spouse asked. You are kidding, right?
I was not kidding, my mind saw a potential no one else saw.
We bid on it, and began work immediately, it was July.
We got closer and closer as we retiled and rebuffed oak floors.
By the time our Christmas party rolled around, we had appreciation.
Our friends were asking where they could buy a train station.
Friends who had initially made fun of our purchase.
We bid them good-night and saw two or three turn back.
To look at the gorgeous home we had built together.
Or maybe to remember how much love and laughter are inside.
We are the best I said to my husband, and of course, we are.
I never did like old people
Still don’t
Which is why I never plan to be one.
I stayed in my art studio, painting up a storm
Got nine canvases almost finished
Began working on six more.
My husband took naps.
He is a professional nap-taker.
The dogs were thrilled to have us both home.
We sneaked them chicken and steak.
No one bothered us.
No one wanted to be entertained or begged for food.
Best Christmas ever,
and I do not have to un-decorate anything
or fix food, which I do not like to do
Seventy, still a kid.
Led by star,
Wise men came
to worship.
The Scribes connived;
or were they just
naive about
the secret plot
and very evil
intent of the King?
Oh, what irony!
He believed Scripture,
but used it to kill.
121923PS
Gnarly is cozy in his winter best today
His clothes were a gift from Mrs. Claus,
a uniform like Santa’s complete with red hat
His is knitted, even warmer than Santa’s maybe
He gets out his favorite Christmas book
Begins to read, loving the cozy plaid pillows.
Where did they come from?
Who did he need to thank?
He fell asleep in his soft hammock,
Guessing so many of his friends.
The possibilities were endless.
This is what happens when you are a Christmas gnome.
Everyone in Christmas town brings you something.
By the time he woke up, his entire hammock was decorated
With pine, red ribbons, ornaments and lovely pine cones.
My life is the best! The gnome said with joyful gratitude.
I thought Santa wore red, the crow said to the owl.
Regular Santa, but this is raccoon Santa, the owl hooted.
What does that mean?
Watch and learn.
In a few minutes raccoons began following Blue Santa.
His costume was trimmed with white fur, but it was periwinkle.
Almost a purple blue.
The raccoons followed him to the middle of the pasture.
He opened his bag and began tossing out sugar cookies.
They caught them in their paws and squealed with delight.
Licking the frosting and slurping like piglets.
Raccoon Santa! Whoever heard of such a thing? Crow said.
Now you have said Owl. He flew forward as Blue Santa tossed crackers.
Crow flew in and snagged a couple himself.
Best Christmas Eve ever!
I rushed into my friend’s office once not realizing she had a guest.
She said “This is Dr. Pat McClintock.”
Dr. Pat McClintock said “You are a Stone Twin from Chariton Iowa.”
This shocked me.
I was forty-four at the time, living in Missouri.
No one here knew about me being a twin.
Well, maybe one or two, but not a stranger.
I nodded, wondering who this woman was.
“I was your second grade teacher, Miss Meyers.”
Suddenly I remembered her well.
She had drawn a horse for Becky Jones.
When I said I wanted one she said she would make me one.
But the next time we came to school, she was gone.
Right after Christmas break.
She never came back and I never got that drawing.
I remembered her all right….
Oh, the beauty of the BELLS of my life.
First, there were the SCHOOL BELLS.
Great sounding BELLS recessing me;
Sad sounding BELLS returning me;
Guiding BELLS directing me to new classes.
Those BELLS I heard for 12 years and more.
Once upon a time, I heard CHURCH BELLS ringing,
calling worshipers to sing, pray, and preach.
Although not as often, I heard those COWBELLS.
Those memorable BELLS, I heard as a child.
There often were the sounds of WEDDING BELLS;
BELLS of loving commitment and covenant romance.
Such BELLS of my very own rang more than 50 years ago.
I can hear those SALVATION ARMY BELLS;
BELLS that return every Christmas Season;
BELLS that encourage me to give joyfully.
Oh, what unforgettable BELLS that show and tell.
120823PS
I was eight-years-old.
Waiting for my twin to finish holding baby David.
Grandpa came up and said give me the baby.
I said "Grandpa, I have been waiting a long time."
Grandpa slapped my face so hard
I thought he had knocked my head off
We left immediately.
Before we opened gifts
This is the day I knew ....
That I had ruined Christmas at Grandma's house
It took me a long time to forgive myself
But I never trusted or loved Grandpa again.
Favorite ornament?A snowman couple made out of Christmas balls,
A bit of stiff taffeta and a silk skirt on Mama Snowman
A tiny blue jacket on Daddy Snowman
A miniscule red gift box ties them together
It used to be grandma’s, and I loved it on her Christmas tree.
It made me feel safe, somehow.
I imagined the snowmen were angels, masquerading as snow people
I dreamed that they checked the house at night, keeping us safe
When grandma passed, I was asked to name something I wanted.
Without hesitation I wanted her snow couple ornament.
She had hidden it away, it took us two months to find.
Wrapped around them was a strip of material with my name on it.
Shebra was a luxury he could ill afford.
Expensive tastes, and wanted designer clothes.
Her shoes cost him a week’s salary.
But he was tired of paying child support anyway.
She is a ho, one of his friends said.
You are jealous, he answered. She is a call girl.
You have to pay her right?
He refused to say.
Merry Christmas said his friend.
Ho Ho Ho he replied, trying to be funny.
Later regretting that he had bought into the tease.
That will be a hundred and fifty, she told him.
I didn’t even get a kiss, he argued.
Hookers don’t kiss, she said.
But you are a call girl, aren’t you? He asked.
Ho ho ho, she said, winking and holding out her hand.
Today is going to be super easy for some
And yet incredibly difficult for others
Easy because it is the last day before winter break
Which used to be Christmas break, but now can’t be
Many teachers have brought food and are showing movies
The Polar Bear Express, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, etc.
Wait! That has Christmas in it. Maybe not that one.
Not legitimately.
It is also pajama day. The principal hates pajama day.
She has called in sick; I think it is because it is pajama day.
The kids are in the hallway with loud happy voices.
Anticipating their parties and movies.
Some of them will have a tough time today.
They depend on school to be structured.
It is the only structure they receive.
I feel sorry for them; freedom will be difficult for them.
Of course, Time has no intervals
were it not for relatable substance.
As Math is lifeless if not for tangible
variables – The Space of Distance an
endless void were it not for the hills
and valleys of waving particles –
All merely existing, when outside
of love....
I am not ready yet to study for the test
I have two weeks and two days for honesty’s sake.
Nagging head voice keeps bugging me to look at the material
Not yet, I think. It’s not time yet.
We are down to a week and a day.
That is one hundred and ninety-two hours.
I bake Christmas cookies and go caroling with friends.
These finals are not that hard, I argue with the annoying voice.
Head voice is not giving up
Ruining a Christmas party, and a first date.
I race home, realizing the test is Monday
The eleventh hour! I stay up all night studying
And sleep through the class where the test was held.