christmas poems

Subject: christmas poems
From: The Sandman
Date: 03 Dec 06 - 03:59 PM

hers a poem. BOOTIFUL TURKEY
Bootiful turkey and christmas pud
Too much booze and too much food
Too many old films on the telly
Indigestion for brain and belly.
Bootiful turkey what a fate.
Imprisoned in a tiny cage
Whats he done to deserve this life
Raised and reared for the butchers knife
Bootiful turkey for the western child
third world starving cannot smile.
Abowl of rice or malnutrition.
mustbe this poor childs only vision.

Bootiful turkey we must sell more
Prices up and profits soar
In praise of mamman we hear them cheer
Merry christmas and happy new year.
copyright Dick Miles.
please contribute any xmas poems .

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: The Sandman
Date: 03 Dec 06 - 04:05 PM

oh and heres one by Thomas Hardy
    Peace upon earth was said we sing it
and pay amillion priests to bring it
after two thousand years of mass
weve got as far as poison gas.

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: Mo the caller
Date: 03 Dec 06 - 05:34 PM

Twas the week before Christmas in our village hall,
Pictures of Santa were stuck on the wall.
There ev'ry morning the Playgroup was busy
Children excited and staff in a tizzie.

So much to finish, so much to do,
I've got a list that will tell me just who
's not made a present to take home to Dad,
If we forgot one, that would be too bad.

There's glitter on fir cones and on Mummy's card,
Spilt on the table and dropped in the yard,
And at each window, dangling on strings,
Glitter on shapes cut like bells, stars and things.

We're learning some carols and acting a play,
Sam's Dad's a farmer, he'll lend us some hay.
Casting's not easy,most want to be sheep,
Or Mary to rock our new doll to sleep.

It's nearly Christmas our work is all done.
Last day of term and the party's begun.
Games to play, food to eat, Santa may call.
Mums, take them home now- I've done with them all.

© Mo Waddington

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: Hawker
Date: 03 Dec 06 - 06:10 PM

I pondered in the still of night,
When earth lay cold and crisp
And all the stars shone clear and bright
Was it a night like this?
Did the angels really sing of joy
Over hills and fields and plain
To hail the newborn baby boy
Who was to o'er us reign?
And did those men acclaimed as wise
That small babe come to see,
All swaddled in a shippon,
Him, who came on Earth for me?
I ponderd in the still of night...
When all the world did sleep,
About the shepherds met by angels
As they tended to their sheep.
Was it just a story?
Was it really true?
Did God send his son upon this Earth
For the likes of me and you?
And was it really worth
All the suffering and pain?
For Him, of very humble birth
Who died and rose again?

Lucy Burrow

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: John MacKenzie
Date: 03 Dec 06 - 06:13 PM

A Christmas Story

'Twas the night before Christmas. Old Santa was pissed.
He cussed out the elves and threw down his list.

Miserable little brats, ungrateful little jerks!
I have a good mind to scrap the whole works!

I've busted my ass for damn near a year.
Instead of "Thanks, Santa," what do I hear?

The old lady bitches 'cause I work late at night.
The elves want more money. The reindeer all fight.

Rudolph got drunk and goosed all the maids.
Donner is pregnant and Vixen has AIDS.

And just when I thought that things would get better,
Those assholes from the IRS sent me a letter.

They say I owe taxes. If that ain't funny!
Who the hell ever sent Santa Claus any money?

And the kids these days, they all are the pits.
They want the impossible, those mean little shits!

I spent a whole year making wagons and sleds,
Assembling dolls, their arms, legs, and heads.

I made a ton of yo-yos--no request for them.
They want computers and robots. They think I'm IBM!

Flying through the air, dodging the trees,
Falling down chimneys and skinning my knees.

I'm quitting this job. There's just no enjoyment.
I'll sit on my fat ass and draw unemployment.

There's no Christmas this year. Now you know the reason:
I found me a blonde. I'm going SOUTH for the season

Giok

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: JennieG
Date: 03 Dec 06 - 07:31 PM

There are some lovely poems on this site - some are Aussie, where we don't have snow at Christmas.

Cheers
JennieG

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: Mr Fox
Date: 04 Dec 06 - 12:26 PM

EDDI, priest of St. Wilfrid
    In his chapel at Manhood End,
Ordered a midnight service
    For such as cared to attend.

But the Saxons were keeping Christmas,
    And the night was stormy as well.
Nobody came to service,
    Though Eddi rang the bell.

"Wicked weather for walking,"
    Said Eddi of Manhood End.
"But I must go on with the service
    For such as care to attend."

The altar-lamps were lighted,—
    An old marsh-donkey came,
Bold as a guest invited,
    And stared at the guttering flame.

The storm beat on at the windows,
    The water splashed on the floor,
And a wet, yoke-weary bullock
    Pushed in through the open door.

"How do I know what is greatest,
    How do I know what is least?
That is My Father's business,"
    Said Eddi, Wilfrid's priest.

"But—three are gathered together—
    Listen to me and attend.
I bring good news, my brethren!"
    Said Eddi of Manhood End.

And he told the Ox of a Manger
    And a Stall in Bethlehem,
And he spoke to the Ass of a Rider,
    That rode to Jerusalem.

They steamed and dripped in the chancel,
    They listened and never stirred,
While, just as though they were Bishops,
    Eddi preached them The Word,

Till the gale blew off on the marshes
    And the windows showed the day,
And the Ox and the Ass together
    Wheeled and clattered away.

And when the Saxons mocked him,
    Said Eddi of Manhood End,
"I dare not shut His chapel
    On such as care to attend."

- Kipling

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: GUEST,Vrdpkr
Date: 04 Dec 06 - 10:01 PM

One of my favorites.


Draggin' in the Tree
S Omar Barker

The cowboy ain't no lumberjack, an' if you want the facks,
One thing he ain't the fondest of is choppin' with an axe
But when December snow has got the range all wrapped in white,
There is one job of choppin' that he seems to like all right.
A sharp ax on his shoulder, he will ride off up the draw
Until he finds an evergreen without a single flaw.
A spruce, a fir, a juniper that's shaped just to a T
To set up in a corner for the ranch house Christmas tree.

As like as not, last summer while a-ridin' after cows
He noticed just the tree he wants, with green and graceful boughs
That's stout enough to ornament without no droop nor saggin',
But still a tree that ain't too big to fetch without a wagon.
It may be that he picked it out when August sun was hot,
But he knows where to find it, for his mind has marked the spot.

It ain't no chore to chop it down, an' if the snow is deep,
He drags it in behind his horse. It warms him up a heap
To see them rancher kids run out a-hollerin' with glee
To watch him as' admire him when he's bringin' in the tree.

Them kids may not belong to him, but that don't matter none -
His boss' brood, a nesters brats - It's still a heap of fun
To some ol' lonesome cowpoke, an' it sets his heart aglow
To come a-draggin' in the tree across the Christmas snow.

Sometimes when there's a schoolmarm an' she wants a tree at school,
She gets half a dozen, for you'll find that as a rule
At least that many cowboys, in sweet education's cause
Will somehow get to feelin' that they're kin to Santy Claus!

Sometimes the rangeland's lonesome an' sometimes it's kind o' grim,
But not when every ranch house has a Christmas tree to trim.
An' though the wild cowpuncher ain't no hand to swing an ax,
Across the white December snow you'll often find his tracks
A-leadin' to the timber, then back out again once more,
A-draggin in the Christmas tree - his purt near favorite chore!



Don't care what you call it. Have a happy, safe, warm season.
And give somebody a helping hand.


Ken

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: GUEST,Dale
Date: 04 Dec 06 - 11:28 PM

I posted this just before Christmas last year, but got no response to it. It is a poem worth thinking about.

More than 90 years ago the Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom, Robert Bridges, was led to write a poem, Noël: Christmas Eve 1913. In 1979, Lee Holdridge adapted the words and set it to music for John Denver.

After last Christmas, I was looking for bargains on the Christmas cutout rack at Hastings and one of the CDs I came home with contained a version by the McCarter Sisters recorded in 1990.   It immediately became a treasured favorite for me. Perhaps some of you will find a place for it as well.

Noël: Christmas Eve 1913
Robert Bridges, Poet Laureate, United Kingdom (1913)

A frosty Christmas Eve when the stars were shining
Fared I forth alone where westward falls the hill,
And from many a village in the water'd valley
Distant music reach'd me peals of bells aringing:
The constellated sounds ran sprinkling on earth's floor
As the dark vault above with stars was spangled o'er.
Then sped my thoughts to keep that first Christmas of all
When the shepherds watching by their folds ere the dawn
Heard music in the fields and marveling could not tell
Whether it were angels or the bright stars singing.
Now blessed be the towers that crown England so fair
That stand up strong in prayer unto God for our souls
Blessed be their founders (said I) an' our country folk
Who are ringing for Christ in the belfries tonight
With arms lifted to clutch the rattling ropes that race
Into the dark above and the mad romping din.
But to me heard afar it was starry music
Angels' song, comforting as the comfort of Christ
When he spake tenderly to his sorrowful flock:
The old words came to me by the riches of time
Mellow'd and transfigured as I stood on the hill
Heark'ning in the aspect of th' eternal silence

Noël: Christmas Eve 1913
As adapted by Lee Holdridge and transcribed from the singing of The McCarter Sisters on 25th December: A Christmas Celebration Of Women, Madacy MLP 2-0451 , 1998. (Warner Brothers Special Products)

A frosty Christmas Eve, when the stars were shining                                       
I traveled forth alone, where westward falls the hill                                          
And for many, many a village, in the darkness of the valley
Distant music reached me, peels of bells were ringing.

Then sped my thoughts to olden times, to that first of Christmases                     
When shepherds who were watching, heard music in the fields
And they sat there and they marveled, and they knew they could not tell
Whether it were angels, or the bright stars singing                                             

The tune he heard afar, it was starry music                                                         
The singing of the angels, the comfort of our Lord
Words of old that come a traveling, by the riches of the times
And I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill
And I softly listened, as I stood upon the hill

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: Saro
Date: 05 Dec 06 - 05:46 AM

No time to post them here, but for brilliant Christmas poems, try the poet U.A. Fanthorpe. She has a whole book of them and they are superb. Happy reading.
Saro

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: Megan L
Date: 05 Dec 06 - 06:12 AM

DREAM A DREAM OF CHRISTMAS

Streets sleeked with rain cold and damp.
Shoes that are burning feet with cramp
Tiredness that leaves you cross and sore
Christmas is here once more.
                
Santas in November, sleigh bells ring
Turkeys and crackers, a chorus to sing
Oh how you wish you could give it a miss.
Has Christmas come to this.

An unmarried mother, scared and alone.
The old men at the station, no place to call home
Nobodies caring, no word to cheer.
How can we find Christmas here.
                
A neat little stable, all cosy and bright.
Shepherds and angels all filled with delight
The scenes filled with sugar, as sweet as can be.
There's nothing in Christmas for me.

Then in my tiredness a voice seemed to say
Go back to your bible and read it MY way
Take of those rose glasses you've worn for so long
The message of Christmas is still new and strong.
                
Look at young Mary, a mother to be,
but there wasn't a husband for the elders to see
So what did they do.   They sent her away
to her cousin Elizabeth to have a long stay.

Joseph's minds working overtime, of that there's no doubt
Trying to find , a comfortable way out.
But both are faithful to the Fathers decree
So they're sticking together to face the melee
                
Travelling is not easy with no bus, car or plane.
They were pretty done in when to Bethlehem they came.
Tired and weary, with feet that were sore
They knocked at last on the little inn door.

Often seen as a villain, that hotelier of old
Couldn't see the young couple thrown into the cold
So he showed them his stable, with its manger of hay.
And here when his time came the young baby lay.
                
Sit now with the shepherds and share in their fear
When a flaming great angel did suddenly appear.
Even in that time of visions that was rare.
So it's really no wonder they got such a scare.

Its reasonably warm where man keeps his beast.
There the family slept unaware of the men from the east
Who travelled so far to search for a king.
They even asked Herrod! That made his bells ring.
                
The king taking note sat up in alarm
Then made his foul plan, the children to harm.
A roughly shaken shoulder, a quick word of fear
Then it's onto the donkey mid many a tear.

The long trauchle to Egypt, for the child's safeties sake.
For a new mother and baby were so hard to take.
There they stayed in a land so alien and stern.
                
Till the old king died and they came home again.
As I read through the story seeing now with his eyes
The tinsel and glitter I've come to despise
Are washed clean away like the cold rain lashed street.
And the truths burning through me like the warmth in my feet.
                
This isn't a story that's long dead and gone,
it's happening now, it's still going on.
The anguish, the heartache, the fear and the pain
The joy and the hope is repeated again.

MeganL

Subject: RE: christmas poems
From: Liz the Squeak
Date: 05 Dec 06 - 06:24 AM

The Oxford Book of Christmas Poems has some amazing stuff in it... including this lovely one from the above mentioned U A Fanthorpe.

This is the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future's
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.

This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.

This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.

And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect

Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.

LTS