Christmas Poems
A Christmas CarolMake it Snow !
The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)
The Christ-child stood on Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down
The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)
The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world's desire.)
The Christ-child stood on Mary's knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.
A Christmas Hymn
A stable-lamp is lighted
Whose glow shall wake the sky;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
And straw like gold shall shine;
A barn shall harbor heaven,
A stall become a shrine.
This child through David's city
Shall ride in triumph by;
The palm shall strew its branches,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
Though heavy, dull, and dumb,
And lie within the roadway
To pave his kingdom come.
Yet he shall be forsaken,
And yielded up to die;
The sky shall groan and darken,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
For stony hearts of men
God's blood upon the spearhead,
God's love refused again.
But now, as at the ending,
The low is lifted high;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
In praises of the child,
By whose descent among us,
The worlds are reconciled.
A Christmas Lesson
Is there a purpose Why are we here
A little boy asked as the yuletide drew near.
I really do hope that someday I will know
the reason we stand out here in the snow,
ringing this bell as people walk by,
while thousands of snowflakes
descend from the sky.
The mother just smiled at her shivering son
who would rather be playing and having some fun
but soon would discover before evening was done
the meaning of Christmas
the very first one.
The young boy exclaimed, Mother where does it go
All the pennies we collect - every year in the snow.
Why do we do it Why do we care
We worked for these pennies,
so why should we share
Because once a baby - so meek and so mild
was born in a manger - so humble the child
the son of a King - was born in this way
to give us the message
He carried that day.
The present God gave the world on that night,
was the gift of his son to make everything right.
Why did he do it Why did he care
To teach about loving
and how we should share.
The meaning of Christmas, you see my dear son,
is not about presents or just having fun
but the gift of a father - his own precious Son
so the world would be saved
when his work was all done
Now the little boy smiled - with a tear in his eye
as snowflakes kept falling from out of the sky -
rang louder the bell as the people walked by
while down deep in his heart
at last he knew why.
A Gaelic Christmas
Their hearts are filled with Pity's mead,
And their souls are sorrow-laden,
When they hear of God's Handmaiden
Without housheen in her need.
Did Mary walk the bohreens green
From Shannon's shore to Galway's border,
The homes of Clare were set in order,
To shield her from the East winds keen.
My grief it is, and bitter woe,
That first to greet the Infant Treasure
Were men with love so mean of measure,
And not my kin by Shannon's flow,
Tho' Thomond heights be bleak and bare,
And Thomond folk but poor and lowly,
With a welcome warm and rapture holy
They'd share their store with the Strangers there.
If Mary went the winding road
From fair Aylroo to far Liscannor,
With matchless grace of mien and manner
Some banathee would ease her load
She'd lilt a haunting Husheen-ho,
Or croon an olden Gaelic number,
To lull the Babe to smiling slumber
Before the turf-fire's fitful glow.
O, would that Mary's feet but trod,
That Christmas Eve, some Thomond valley,-
With a joy untold my kin would rally
To dower with gifts the Lamb of God.
Back Home With Us For Christmas
Across the festive store I see her
A mother knelt beside her child
Both conjured by the Christmas frippery
Entranced by the promiscuous lights
Dancing across their astonishment
Silver drums and golden trumpets
Sparkling peacocks and frosted fruits
Rainbow garlands and brazen tinsel
Stars and fairies awaiting their finest hour
I cannot help but move closer
Pretending to avert my gaze
To see the sparkling of their eyes
As whispering close she softly says
On Christmas night, just wait and see
Upon your bed, beneath the tree
There will be toys and lovely things
That kindly Father Christmas brings
For every child who's good and true
Especially little girls like you
And thirty Christmases unwind
I am that mother, she is my child
They are my words
I thought she had forgotten
My sweet memory, my little girl
Back home with us for Christmas
'Christmas Bells' poem
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Christmas Carol
an ice shadow will crunch under the tyres
again when we turn the gate from Midnight Mass
heading for windowlight waiting like a cup of tea.
next morning as usual the horses
will be ridden out steaming after their hoofprints
while a robin in the thicket rehearses spring
and when someone goes to get turf
the hoards of leaves will lie unnoticed
as the grey mysterious Liffey slowing
through sallow fields where sheep
munch among the witheredy ragworth
while a wavy V of geese disappears
high and silent down the sky
and somewhere the unnoticed infant
has come into the world again
is lying on our straw
softening everything as a baby does
smiling deepening the peace
of Christmas in Kildare.
Christmas Cheer a Christmas Poem
Good husband and housewife, now chiefly be glad,
Things handsome to have, as they ought to be had.
They both do provide, against Christmas do come,
To welcome their neighbors, good cheer to have some.
Good bread and good drink, a good fire in the hall,
Brawn, pudding, and souse, and good mustard withal.
Beef, mutton, and pork, and good pies of the best,
Pig, veal, goose, and capon, and turkey well drest,
Cheese, apples and nuts, and good carols to hear,
As then in the country is counted good cheer.
What cost to good husband, is any of this
Good household provision only it is
Of other the like, I do leave out a many,
That costeth the husband never a penny.
Christmas Envelopes
Monks are at it again, quaffing, carousing;
And stage-coaches, cantering straight out of Merrie England,
In a flurry of whips and fetlocks sacks and Santas.
Raphael has been roped in, and Botticelli;
Experts predict a vintage year for Virgins.
From the Theologically challenged, Richmond Bridge,
Giverny, a lugger by moonlight, doves. Ours
Costs less than these in money, more in time;
Like them, is hopelessly irrelevant,
But brings, like them, the essential message .....love.
Christmas Madonna
The lights that fill Our Lady's eyes
Flood not from merely mortal skies.
Our Lady is the stirring word
Archangel Michael may have heard,
Pure Maiden in a Virgin's white,
Yet Mother throned on highest height.
Whose arms were nest God made His own,
Whose lap He fashioned for His throne;
Whose Motherhood is the one rose
Like which no other flower grows.
Although no mortal holds her place
Humbleness is sweet upon her face.
Because she holds One at her side
Her arms to all are Mother-wide;
For each tired heart calm on her breast
Is her own Son obtaining rest.
Each knows a kiss sweet with all grace
From lips that brush God's Infant face;
Each lives the golden childhood dream
That Beauty is and does not seem,
That by Her hearts might ever stay
And never note the passing day,
In joy of being by her side
As Jesus was at Christmastide.
Christmas Surprise
Imagine me poised for diurnal attack,
like a raptor who preys on hard shells;
a clam to crack on a rock with a whack,
'cause the deal is, the first peel of bells
On Christmas Day means that I must amaze,
with a gift that you could not conceive,
but I don't have a clue; I haven't for days
and the truth is, you wouldn't believe -
I've picked through your words like a tramp in a bin;
your mumbles at night for some sign
each phrase a cadaver so painfully thin -
with no glint of a hint - there's just nine
Days to shop, and I should 'til I've flopped
for gifts to ensure that you gasp;
but I've scavenged, pecked and even eavesdropped,
and I'm stumped, so damn, I'll just ask.
Your voice speaks
Little child out of Eternity, now will I sing to thy mother! The
song shall be fair as dawn-tinted snow.
Rejoice Mary Virgin, daughter of my earth, sister of my soul,
rejoice, O joy of my joy!
I am as one who wanders through the night, but you are a house
under stars.
I am a thirsty cup, but you are God's open sea.
Rejoice Mary Virgin, blessed are those who call you blessed,
never more shall child of man lose hope.
I am one love for all, I shall never cease from saying one of you
has been exalted by the Lord.
Rejoice Mary Virgin, wings of my earth, crown of my soul, rejoice
joy of my joy!
Blessed are those who call you blessed.
Many a year is hurried past
Since first your eyes on me were cast
Ah! Happy day! You held me fast.
My Mary!
A young maid's mind began to grow
And learn't of you--God's Hand-maid low
And learn't to love, to love you so.
My Mary!
And then one blessed Christmas night
You left your home in heaven's height
You stood before me glowing white.
My Mary!
Just for a while you lingered there
And then you left your Child so fair
The first time in my heart to care.
My Mary!
Oh, Blest Communion, Christmas day,
Oh, Mary, grant that I may stay
Close to your Child and you alway.
My Mary!