Christmas Poems

I wrote these poems last year. They show the dichotomy of what Christians consider the real first Christmas compared to what it is today. May you be blessed with both, and may you be merry today.




Curly-haired sleepy-heads
Wake up and tumble out of beds,
Run down the hall
And into the pile
Of gifts wrapped brightly
And bows tied tightly.
Mom and dad smile,
Whispering secrets while
Watching all their dreams
Come true through the streams
Of paper and ribbons
Soon bundled in hats and mittens,
Tossed in laughter and fun
So playful and wild,
Their most cherished gift
Is the face of the child.

Newborn sleepy-head
Wakes up to a prickly bed,
A feeding trough,
And a wooden stall
Of animals grunting lightly
Under a star shining brightly.
Mom and dad smile
Whispering secrets while
Watching all their dreams
Come true in the streams
Of hay and dust
Through deepest fears and desperate trust.
Coated with peace and tranquility.
So meek and so mild,
Their most cherished gift
Is the grace of the Child.