Christmas Poems Page 5

The Christmas Star
Poet: Julie Hebert, 2012

Christmas is a magical time,
For young and also old.
The season brings so much to see,
And so many stories are told.

The biggest story of the holiday,
Is of the Christmas star.
Sitting out on Christmas Eve,
We are reminded who we are.

Christmas is about one thing.
Not presents or of toys.
Christmas is of joy and peace,
And happy family noise.

Christmas is the spirit of
And of being with those you love.
It is a time to give thanks and show your love,
And in times of need, look up above.

Christmas became because of one,
And we have him to thank.
Next time you see that star shine bright,
Say a prayer for Jesus sake.

The Christmas star is a presence,
One in which is a thrill.
Although it seems impossible now,
He stands among us still.

He Stands Among Us Still!
Poet: Nancy Byrd Turner

High in the heavens a single star,
Of pure, imperishable light;
Out on the desert strange and far
Dim riders riding through the night:

Above a hilltop sudden song
Like silver trumpets down the sky--
And all to welcome One so young
He scarce could lift a cry!

Stars rise and set, that star shines on:
Songs fail, but still that music beats
Through all the ages come and gone,
In lane and field and city streets.

And we who catch the Christmas gleam,
Watching with children on the hill,
We know, we know it is no dream -
He stands among us still!

All That is Christmas
Poet: Julie Hebert, 2011

Christmas is more than just presents,
love and harmony.
Together with friends and family,
Laughing and being funny.

We sing so many carols,
That we can't forget the tunes.
Christmas is so very exciting,
Especially in the afternoons.

Mornings are about Santa,
Exchanging our lovely gifts.
But afternoons are about loving,
All those who we feel fit.

Christmas Is . . .
Poet: Julie Hebert, 2011

A time of blessings and happiness.
A time of caroling and songs.
A time for giving thanks.
A time for presents for all.
A time of good cheer and
A time of love for all.
A time for
helping others.
But most of all Christmas is a time to stop and thank God for all that we have.

The Eve of Christmas
Poet: Pope Leo XIII

Cometh the yearly Feast, the wonderous Holy Night,
Worthy of sacred hymn and solemn rite.

No harbingers of joy the olden message sing,
Nor gifts of Peace to waiting mortals bring.

Alone the thronging hosts of evil men I hear,
And see the anxious brow and falling tear.

The Age will bear no yoke; forgets the God above,
Nor duteous payment yields to parents' love.

Suspicious Discord rends the peaceful State in twain,
And busy Murder follows in her train.

Gone are the loyal faith, the rights revered of old--
Reigns but a blind and cruel lust of Gold!

O come, Thou holy Child! Pity the fallen world,
Lest it should perish, into darkness hurled.

Out of the laboring Night grant it a newer birth,
And a New Age to bloom o'er all the earth.

Circle with splendors old the brow of Faith divine;
Let her full glory on the nations shine.

Nerve her to battlings new; palsy her foes with dread;
Place the victorious laurel on her head.

Be Error's mist dissolved, and ancient feuds repressed,
Till Earth at last find quietude and rest.

O gentle Peace, return nor evermore depart;
And link us hand in hand and heart to heart!

The Nazarine
Poet: Louis Alexander Robertson

A manger-cradled child, his mother near,
And one they call his father standing by,
Shepherd and Magi, with the gifts they bear,
An angel chorus rolling through the sky-
Once more the sacred mystery we scan,
And wonder if the Christ be God's best gift to man.

Pale, patient Pleader, for the poor and those
Whose hearts are homes of sorrow and of pain,
Thy voice is as a balm for all their woes;
Through twenty centuries it calleth plain
As when it breathed the invitation blest-
"Ye weary, come to Me, and I will give you rest."

Reason may seek to ruin, science scorn,
But that great love of Thine hath made us wise
In wisdom not of understanding born,
That bids us turn to Thee with longing eyes
And outstretched hands. We know that Thou art He.
Nor do we seek a sign as did the Pharisee.

Sweet festival that bringeth back once more
The golden dreams of childhood, let us turn
Like little children to the Christmas lore
That once did hold us spellbound, till we learn
Again the lesson of Thy love; for we
Must be like children, Lord, ere we can come to Thee.

Mary's Delimma
Poet: Greta Zwaan, , 2008

What a scandal! What a shame! This pretty young lass has soiled her name.
Were her folks ashamed and torn knowing they would face the scorn?
Knowing what the priest might say, such disgrace had come their way.
Friends would taunt and show disgust - this young girl betrayed their trust.

Oh, the young folks of today, they never hear a thing we say!
What is this world coming to? Look at the horrible things they do.
She's ruined her life, now she's with child, that's what comes when they go wild.
I never thought of her that way, she always has nice things to say.

You know, still waters do run deep; as you can see, such words are cheap.
I'm very disappointed though, it's hard when it's someone you know.
I always thought so well of her, how sad that this has to occur.
I s'pose the boy will go scott free, but that doesn't seem quite right to me.
I'm old fashioned, as you know, but this is not the way to go.

Now the damage has been done, there's no way she can turn and run.
I wonder, should I speak to her? The gossip she's begun to stir?
Someone should give her good advice; help her out, try to be nice.
After all, she's so young and yet, perhaps, in time, folks will forget.
"My child, why did you do this sin? Look at the trouble that you're in."

"Oh, Auntie, I know how you feel; listen closely, this is real.
I had a vision in the night; I hardly breathed because of fright!
An angel came and spoke to me, a light so bright I couldn't see!
He called me the most favoured one. I thought, "What is it I have done?"

Then he related words of old, the things for years that we've been told.
But one amazing thing he said as I lay frightened on my bed;
'Mary, you're God's chosen one. You'll give birth to God's own Son.
He's the Messiah you've waited for, the Saviour the angels in heaven adore.'

I was astonished but he said it was so! Before very long the whole world will know.
The wonderful birth that will take place, showing God's mercy, love and grace.
Me, the mother to this heavenly Child! A holy being; beloved, undefiled.
So, you see dear Auntie, the stories aren't true; I'm glad to share this news with you!
You've known my character through the years, I never hurt you or caused you tears.

For years we've been waiting for God to bring, the wonderful Saviour, our Lord and King.
Now the event will soon occur; Oh, I know, it will cause a big stir!
But that's the chance I'll have to take; this news from God is no mistake.
So, Auntie, please rejoice with me. God has remembered, He'll set us free.

If there's ridicule that I must face, if folks say this is a disgrace.
Tell them what I've just told you, and God will help to see me through.
When this Child grows inside my womb, my heart will gladly give Him room.
And one day all the world will see, this blessing God has given me.
This gift will be to all mankind, in Him the peace of life they'll find.
May God supply the strength I need. I feel so blessed; real blessed indeed."

More Christmas Poems:

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