Christmas Poems

Christmas Day

I wake on Christmas morning,
To a world crisp and cold.
With a heart filled with singing,
Of the story never old.

Then hasten off to church,
For I’ve found no better way.
To gain that certain feeling,
That we need on Christmas Day.

As I softly slip into a seat,
And breathe a quiet prayer.
My heart’s immediately at rest,
With all good people there.

The choir is softly singing,
Of that sacred Christmas birth.
Which brought the world salvation,
And peace to all on earth.

The church is dimly lighted,
With each candles tiny glow.
As we hear a Christmas story,
Told in reverent tones and low.

Then all form into a circle,
Pass the light from hand to hand.
Symbolising how God’s word,
Has spread from land to land.

Then  Joy To The World,
Rings out with many voices.
Another Christmas Day is here,
As the whole wide world rejoices! 

*

Christmas Thanks

For all things good at Christmastide,
For joys that in full hearts reside.
For clothes shared for those in need,
And food for homeless ones to feed.

For the wonders of the world we see,
For the beauty of each flower and tree.
For lakes and hills and azure sky,
And snowy clouds that float on by.

For greeting cards from far and near,
For gifts from friends we hold so dear.
For chorused carols by torchlight's glow,
And children ambling on glistening snow.

For candles glowing through the night,
For Christmas trees so shining bright.
For Yuletide wreaths of holly green,
And sacredness of the stable scene.

For the birth of Thy Son in that manger low,
For three wise men travelling so long ago.
For shepherds who viewed that Holy night,
And the star which guided them by its light.
We give thanks, our Father.

*

White Christmas (Snow)

How silently the snow descends,
Like tiny angel wings.
And kisses lightly every branch,
So lovingly it clings.

It clothes the earth in radiance,
And a purity  serene.
No spot can mar the perfect white,
Of God's own winter scene.

He shook the pillows out above,
Where heavenly heads find rest.
Sent the feathers gently down,
To find an earthly nest.

The flakes come thick and faster,
Now swirling to and thro.
I gaze entranced- it's wonderful!
To behold the Christmas snow.

*

Christmas Is

Christmas is a time for caring,
Christmas is a time for sharing.
A time to celebrate a special birth,
And wish good will to all on Earth.

Christmas is a miracle from above,
Christmas is about peace and love.
A time filled with hope and joy,
A time to celebrate a baby boy.

Christmas is children’s faces,
Transfixed with star-struck glee,
The first time they gaze adoringly,
Upon a sparkling Christmas tree.

Christmas is a time for Peace,
Christmas is Hope un-ceased.
A time of festive merriment and much mirth,
A day to recall our Christ child’s sweet birth. 

*

Christmas Gifts

Kneeling many years ago, 
In a stable bare.
Wise men proffer gifts of love, 
To the Baby there.

Through ages passed since then, 
Gifts have been a part, 
Of the wondrous Christmas Day, 
Given from the heart.

We sit down and make a list, 
With many a wistful thought.
A gift we give may show our love, 
Not just be a present bought.

We wander through the busy shops, 
Filled with Christmas rush.
Do wonder if we can recall, 
That sacred Christmas hush.

All packages are brightly wrapped, 
The glitter on the tree.
The nuts are placed in fancy jars, 
For everyone to see.

Suddenly it's Christmas Eve, 
And the sacred Christmas story.
Re-enters every willing heart, 
To let us share the glory.

Do give our gifts with thankful hearts, 
That the tiny Babe was born.
In the manger bare in Bethlehem, 
That first bright Christmas morn.

*

Sweet Christmas

Poetry mirrors a box of Christmas chocolates.
Never left on the shelf and moreishly consuming.

*

2,000 Christmases

No new animals have been domesticated in over 2,000 Christmases.
This is also the case with very bad poets.

*

Christmas Is Coming 

Christmas is coming,
The geese are getting fat.
Please put a penny, 
In the old man's hat.
If you haven't got a penny, 
A ha'penny will do.
If you haven't got a ha'penny, 
Then God bless you.

Christmas is coming, 
Nobodies getting fat.
No large family get togethers, 
Lockdown's seen to that. 
No travelling to Brum, 
Early on Christmas Day.
A sad fact of reality, 
The price I now pay.

Christmas is cancelled, 
For a family to unite.
And embrace one another, 
But things can be put right.
We shall all link up, 
With the help of Zoom.
A family now undivided, 
In each other's living room.

*

Christmas Neglect

Aaaah! It's Christmas! 
And my larder's crammed.
So filled with goodies, 
Any diet be damned! 

But what about families, 
Struggling to make ends meet.
Who aren't so well off, 
Who haven't landed on their feet.

Perhaps we all should, 
Stop! And then reflect.
Then share with others, 
To help and not neglect.

*

The Sad Elf On The Shelf

In a dark toyshop so sad and very alone,
Sits a Christmas elf, wishing for a home.
I'm the last elf he said and began to cry,
The last elf on the shelf nobody did buy.

Then suddenly a voice did gently say,
It's tragic not be sold on this last day.
Then the elf saw the most beautiful toy,
A white fairy doll with a smile of pure joy.

Elf, please don't worry it'll be alright,
For magic we'll share this very night.
There is reason why we're left here,
A little girl awaits who'll love us dear.

Then both were bathed in a bright light,
Two unsold toys on Christmas Eve night.
The shop owner seeing them did smile,
On the shelf together in that empty aisle.

She picked up elf and then walked away,
Elf looked back at fairy with sad dismay.
Who simply smiled and then gave a wink,
As the owner stopped to pause and think.

It'd a shame to break up such a happy pair,
I'll take that lovely fairy with the golden hair.
Thank the heavens you two were left unsold,
Tomorrow my little daughter will happily hold.

She'll be overjoyed  and giggle with glee,
Unwrapping you under the Christmas tree.
She will love you both and look after you,
She's a good kind girl so honest and true.

Both now with a wide happy smile on each face,
Whispering to each other now free of that place.
Fairy,how did you know she'd take us both away,
Elf, that is a secret I'll share on Christmas Day...

*

Xmas Quatrain

Need to write a Xmas quatrain, 
Without a very long word.
Like antidisestablishmentarianism, 
For that would be absurd.

*

Christmas Poems

Where are my Christmas poems, 
They have all simply disappeared.
A whole glutch of utter nonsense, 
Some awful and some quite weird.

They were there this morning, 
A pile of low brow poetic art.
I will look again to find them, 
But I'm beginning to lose heart.

If truly lost I shall revise them, 
An oversight to make any poet sad.
But for any reader far far worse, 
For I'll rewrite them twice as bad.

*

An Evil Christmas Snowman

There's something intensely spooky, 
About a snowman that stands alone.
Always frozen to the same spot, 
Morbidly still like a funeral stone.

His little black hat leans to his left, 
But yesterday it was to his right.
I'm sure he's creeping closer, 
Never by day but slowly overnight.

And his smile is more of a grimace, 
His cold eyes are bigger and black.
So I take my axe and start swinging, 
Chopping him down whack after whack.

Head and limbs are mercilessly severed, 
His final fate is now so dramatically sealed.
There are endless fountains of crimson blood, 
Behind his evil grimace long fangs revealed.

Die you fiend! 
Die you beast! 
All evil within, 
Is now deceased! 

Christmas Day morning I open my curtains, 
To look out in terror over snowy white glen.
A sight strikes me with horrific disbelief, 
For where he stood- there now stand ten!

*

Christmas Cards

Of the many Christmas customs,
All known and loved for years.
The one of sending Christmas cards,
Is the one that really cheers.

There's a certain sort of something,
That glows for many a day.
When you get a Christmas greeting,
From a friend who's far away.

You've always meant to keep in touch,
But time goes by so fast.
For suddenly you're amazed to find,
Yet another year has passed.

But the sight of familiar writing,
On the doormat in the hall.
Is better than a brand new shirt,
For that exotic New Year's ball.

When pictures of the children,
Grown awfully cute and sweet.
Tumble from the envelope,
Your joy is quite complete.

You wonder how you stayed away,
From friends who are so dear.
And vow to try to visit them,
Sometime this coming year.

The age-old Christmas greetings,
In attractive Christmas art.
Awakens thoughts always kept,
So deep within ones heart.

The glow spreads out to others,
As you take your pen in hand.
Sending a card to other friends,
All scattered across the land.

The pictures of a tiny babe,
Born in that manger low.
Bring closer to your soul,
His birth so many years ago.

And your spirit is refreshed,
Your mind and heart grow clean.
As you bow in humble homage,
To that sacred stable scene.

Then you place them in a basket,
Trimmed with ornaments or greens.
Even fasten them to ribbons,
To display the Christmas scenes.

But whatever way you show them,
They're like a friendly meeting.
Or a voice across the miles,
In a heart-felt Christmas greeting.

*

Christmas Mirror, Mirror On The Wall
 

Christmas mirror, mirror on the wall.
Who's the wickedest of them all? 
And there was no long pregnant pause.
For the mirror instantly replied...
Don't get me started on that one, 
For Christ's sake! 
I've got a list as long as your bloody arm.
For starters, 
Publican's who chuck you out of their pub, 
Simply for singing in welsh.
Publican's who chuck you out of their pub, 
For not singing in welsh.
That extremely bad poet on Cosmofunnel, 
Who sausage factory's bad odour poems.
Him!
That Welshie one.
Politicians who kiss babies, 
Whenever the press are about.
Those crazy maniac's in their cars, 
Driving through puddles targeting pedestrians.
Those tossers in restaurants who unscrew, 
The tops of salt cellars, 
Left for poor schmucks.
That guy with the deafening leaf blower, 
That'll wake the dead.
Who's always out on a mini hurricane day.
If he had a brain he'd be dangerous, 
Those half human half traffic wardens, 
Who give you a ticket, 
While you parked outside a charity shop, 
Delivering a Christmas donation.
Oh! And while I'm at it, 
How about giving me a polish once and while, 
I look as dirty and rough as a badger's arse...

And all throughout the Christmas season, 
The mirror's tirade continued unabated.

*

This Man Named Jesus

They are few.
But slowly growing in numbers.
They are weak.
But gradually getting stronger.
They are led by one.
Only one.
They flock to him.
Like sheep.
His speeches captivate them.
Enthralling all.
I watched and listened.
Many times.
Dressed as a follower.
But as a General of Rome.
I'm taught not to fear.
Anything.
Or anyone.
I fear for Rome's future.
But most of all...
I fear him.
Their leader.
This man who consumes me.
This man who captivates me.
This man named Jesus.

*

A Christmas House

Our house has such a lovely air,
When Christmas comes around.
All sorts of Christmas cheer,
About the rooms are found.

We bring down from the attic,
A box so huge and square.
Packed tight full of everything,
To make it gladsome there.

Across the mantle reindeers dash,
With a leap and bound they go.
Drawing Santa's sleigh of gifts,
Over mounds of cotton snow.

Silver balls from the archway hang,
No prettier sight can be seen.
Outlined by strings of coloured lights,
Amidst garlands of holly greens.

Fixed stars on windows peer down,
Spreading their beams of light.
To ribbons of red and tiny rosettes,
And on curtains of crispy white.

Through the house a spirit pervades,
With candles ribbon and holly.
Christmas Eve it's a joy to behold,
We couldn't help but be jolly.

We open the door to our little house,
Listening to carol singers refrain.
Our hearts are peaceful and joyous,
For it is Christmas time again.

*

Temperamental Christmas Poets

Some Christmas poets are temperamental.
That's 1% temper.
And 99% mental.

*

Take A Pinch Of Christmas
( To the tune of Sing A Song Of Sixpence)

Take a pinch of Christmas,
No, better make it two.
Sprinkle it on parchment, 
A poem for all to view.
Never over do it, 
Or it'll be a mess.
Sometimes less is more, 
A poem to impress.

* 

One Day Before Christmas

One day before Christmas,
Friday, three thirty five.
A man stopped for directions, 
He looked barely alive.

He asked at a fire station, 
How far to Suicide Park? 
The aim of his destination, 
Before it got too dark.

Just a mile straight ahead, 
A helpful fire officer replied,
Thanks, that's all, he said, 
So sad and teary eyed.

A rope that journeyed with him, 
He carried so tightly clasped.
His hope was low and dim, 
Then pleaded till it rasped.

On arriving at Suicide Park, 
He selected the tallest tree.
His emotions naked and stark, 
What the hell's wrong with me.

He angrily tossed away the rope, 
And quickly returned to his abode.
Kissing deeply his wife called Hope, 
With such love that'll never erode.

*

Priceless

Rainbow gold is for little people, leprechaun's.
Unicorns are for dreamers, true dreamers.
Easter Bunny again for little people, children.
Christmas and poetry are for everyone.
Which both exist and are priceless.

* 

A Christmas Cave

The more I look, 
The more I find.
My poetry vein, 
Is slowly mined.

A treasure trove, 
A Christmas cave.
Of poetry found, 
My poem stave.

Just dot the i's, 
Cross those t's.
Check my spelling, 
On all a b c's.

Maybe I'll rewrite, 
One or two.
Or perhaps just, 
Start anew.

To get them right, 
To make them flow.
To do them justice, 
All tasks to undergo. 

*

Christmas Day Pretentious Nonsense

T'was Christmas Day morning...
As the ghosts of William Shakespeare and his beloved, 
Pet howler monkey Mischief sat atop a high cliff-edge, 
 A foreboding cliff-edge looking down on all humanity.
Now awakening to the Christmas Day dawn's first light.
Mischief looked up into the sad, tearful eyes of his master.
Who was viewing the latest posted Cosmofunnel poems.
On the latest Samsung Galaxy tablet.
Gazooks! Exclaimed Shakespeare, 
This cannot be!!!! 
Nay! Nay! .. And thrice nay! 
Such drivel and utter dross! 
Ye is disrespecting my worshipped mistress called poetry again!!!
Mere incoherent ramblings masquerading as poems! 
Methinks my dear Mischief this is clearly a clarion call to arms! 
We must hire a flock of assorted thugs and psychopaths, 
And teach that Cosmofunnel member a lesson of poetry respect! 
Once and for all! 
A damned good cat o' nine tails thrashing!
With a little bit of murder on the side! 
But, first my dear, dear Mischief, 
I need to violently throw up over yonder cliff-edge.
And with that the ghost of William Shakespeare, 
Stood up and hurled his ghostly breakfast down the yonder cliff.
Then The Great Bard wiped clean his mouth and said, 
We'll finally be rid of that Welshie boyo, 
For I don't like the way, 
Ye is putting words in my mouth.
And with that the ghost of William Shakespeare,
Started phoning some very, very unsavoury characters.
While Mischief smiled up at his master and scratched his red monkey arse.

*

It's So Much Fun Being A Turkey

It's so much fun being a turkey, 
We're fattened up all year long.
No predators out trying to kill us, 
Happy to say nothing can go wrong. 

As we're all herded altogether, 
Then off on our travels we go.
I guess it is a mystery trip, 
A final destination we don't know.

*

Lorna

You won't keep pace with her, 
She's simply a tour de force.
Others have tried and failed, 
They couldn't stay the course.

She'll write about anything, 
Whatever catches her eye.
She'll just sit on a bench, 
And watch her world go by.

Lorna just won't quit or stop, 
Her imagination is so clever 
And we secretly all agree, 
Her poetry will last forever.

Her Sycamore Gap is a classic,
If it's a sonnet you so desire.
And that gem called Memory Loss,
A poetry benchmark to inspire.

Poetry of purest precision, 
A well oiled poem machine.
With ideas fresh and revealing, 
Keeping readers avid and keen.

What simply drives that woman, 
We all shall never know.
Lorna just enjoys writing poetry, 
And all it can bestow.

*

Dedicated to Lorna.
Merry Christmas to you.

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