The Writing Forum Member’s Christmas Poetry Page 1 of 2 To Page 2   Click on any title below to be linked to that poem. To access the author’s home page, click on their name at the bottom of the poem: OUR CHRISTMAS POEMS: “A Christmas Poem” by Will Patrick “The First Christmas” by Will Patrick “Latin Midnight Mass” by Kathryn McL. Collins “The Christmas Fairy” by Rob Bristol “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” by Paul Ballinger “The Christmas Calf” by Betty Lou Hebert “Christmas Doesn’t Live Here Anymore” by Paul Curtis “Who Ate All the Pies?” by Paul Curtis “The Salvation Army Bells” by Paul Curtis “Christmas Tree in 1953” by Robert Lesher “While Lighting Christmas Candles” by Betty Lou Hebert “Climbing the Christmas Tree” by Betty Lou Hebert “James Bay December” by Robert Lesher “This Christ Child” by Joyce Johnson “Christmas Stockings” by Joyce Johnson “Christmas Time” by Bill Cottringer “Christmas Is . . . ” by Marcia Miller-Twiford “On a Christmas Eve Morn” by Marcia Miller-Twiford "We Still Say Merry Christmas" by Dr. James Martin “Is It Christmas Yet?” by Dr. James Martin “Christmas Gateau” by Paul Curtis “When Christmas Wears Its Tinselled Gown” by Paul Curtis ”More Nuts Than Can Be Cracked” by Paul Curtis “Carols” by Ted L Glines “We Say” by Ted L Glines “A Special Time of Year” by Rose Marie Rideout “Christmas Cometh” by Ingrid Showalter Swift “Christmas Past” by Ingrid Showalter Swift “A Christmas TRUTH” by Ingrid Showalter Swift “Christmases That Used to Be” by Toni D. Helfrick “Reason For Christmas” by Samuel E. Stone   A Christmas Poem by Will Patrick Bows and red bangles lights all a ‘tangle wreaths and ribbons are hung Cards and more shopping Santa is stopping house to house he runs Toys and good laughter tinsel and tatters presents piled too high Drifts and old sleighs the children will play near stockings fireplace nigh Evergreen boughs and twinkling stars scents of green pine do arise Little toy trains and balsa wood planes soaring into the skies Cookies and potions gingerbread notions icicles hanging from eaves Memories linger caroling singers roaming on Christmas Eve Mangers and shepherds in wintery weather out of place in the snow Reindeer bells jingle good friends will mingle with hearts and love all a glow Mistletoe kisses and holiday wishes are left in our hearts for the year Christmas is coming I hear drummer boys drumming Good wishes and yuletide cheer ©Will Patrick – December 2011   The First Christmas by Will Patrick Led by planets in conjunction, wise men traveled from afar, seeking light in his reflection, bearing gifts beneath that star. August winds draped wisdom's story, capturing stardust drifts below, tracing ancient myths in glory, glistening in the noonday glow. Summer creeps past frosts and sunsets, city lights obscure the view. Meteor showers cloak the morning, Hiding in the morning dew. Listen closely as I tell you of this wish I dreamed came true, hosts of angels in the forests, midway messengers sharing clues. Brightened by this revelation, Eclipsing time and timeless rue, wise men share a new dimension.. three concentric rings of blue. 2000 years of anxious waiting, we are blessed in such an age, Done with our anticipating waiting as we turn the page. Love each other in the morning care for comfort through the noon, live each moment in the present, share his grace beneath this moon. Now we sing in celebration, around this globe for evermore, remember that I lived among you, with spirits from that distant shore. Look around you, feel the moment, keep alive the solemn plan, the Fatherhood of just one God, the Brotherhood of every man. ©Will Patrick   Latin Midnight Mass I was little then, yet bigger than the baby born anew each Christmas. Adeste Fideles.  (come all ye faithful) Diverting my expectations of presents, like lighted angels we sang. Venite adoremus. (come let us adore him) Each family, a personal nativity, knelt humbly in his presence. Domine non sum dignus. (Lord, I am not worthy) And then the miracle, come to save us. Corpus Christie. (body of Christ) Ite, missa est.  (go the mass is ended) deo gratias. (thanks be to God) out the heavenly royal hall. Wonder if I got that sled. ©Kathryn M. Collins December 6, 2011   ”The Christmas Fairy” by Rob Bristol Once there lived a special boy, Who was his parents pride and joy, They named their child "Little Joe" He loved to play out in the snow. It first appeared late one year, A curious growth behind one ear, His parents, fearing time was short, Prayed a miracle could be sought. As days flew by, Joe got worse, Stricken by this evil curse, One day, whilst on the garden path, His parents heard a fairy's laugh. Shocked by such a strange surprise, The fairy stood before their eyes, She asked if they knew "Little Joe", The boy who loved to play in snow. "Why, he's our child" they replied, A sense of hope filled them inside, The fairy took her wand and waved, "By this wish, your child is saved" As the fairy vanished from their sight, There came news of great delight, The growth that caused so much fear, Had simply vanished from Joe's ear. Once there was a special boy, Who was his parents pride and joy, They named their child "little Joe" He plays with fairies in the snow.... ©Rob Bristol   “ 'Twas The Night Before Christmas” 'Twas the night before Christmas ('tho that day had not been named), visitors were arriving; from far off they came. Some were bearing gifts while some just stared in awe at the youhg Hebrew girl resting in the straw. A donkey was there, some cattle, some sheep, and her betrothed; all watching her sleep. 'Twas the night before Christmas and all over the earth and uncaring world awaited the birth of a Savior most would never see 'tho He had come to set them free. 'Twas the night before Christmas and the world held its breath; especially Satan, especially Death, for their hold on man soon now would end with the cry of an infant born without sin. And the Christmas sun did fill the sky as the baby was born with a healthy cry. Sheperds and kings knelt and wept seeing this promise from God was kept. And Angels in Heaven rejoicing did sing as Christmas Day brought forth a new King. A gift from God on Christmas Day Who showed us Heaven, and led the way. ©Paul Ballinger   The Christmas Calf We lived out in the country, With no neighbors near at hand. We didn't mind the solitude And enjoyed the forestland. One Christmas Eve, we headed home From church and on the way, We saw a lump lie in the road, Buit what, we couldn't say. It had started snowing And we quickly went to see What it was there in the road, Never dreaming it would be A very small and new born calf. What was he doing there? We only knew he needed help. Beyond that, we didn't care. We took him home and warmed him And gave him milk to drink. We thought Noel should be his name And then we stopped to think, How would we raise a little calf? Just how hard could it be? We soon found out but just the same We were very glad to see The fine and healthy animal He grew to gradually. He followed us just like a dog. He came when we would call. We took him home to save him, But loved him after all. One day he simply disappeared. We never found a trace. We missed him so much every day And the sight of that dear face. We think about him all the time. You might say we are haunted. Sometimes life gives us gifts that we Didn't know we wanted! ©Betty Lou Hebert   "Christmas Doesn't Live Here Anymore" by Paul Curtis There will be no wreath on the door Not a single decoration will be seen Cards will be recycled unopened Christmas doesn’t live here anymore There will be no gifts beneath the tree There will be no turkey with all the trimmings There will be no festive merriment Christmas doesn’t live here anymore There will be no season’s greetings There will be no Christmas joy There will be no festive spirit Christmas doesn’t live here anymore This Christmas day will be like any other day A day full of abject loneliness For since my darling joined the angels Christmas doesn’t live here anymore ©Paul Curtis   "Who Ate All the Pies?" by Paul Curtis The old fat fella In the big red suit Off delivering gifts In his festive pursuit Wide black belt And big black boot The jolly fat bloke Ruddy and hirsute He does great good That’s not in dispute But he eats too much So he’s a chubby brute So when he visits On his Christmas commute Don’t leave him a pie Leave him some fruit ©Paul Curtis   "The Salvation Army Bells" by Paul Curtis The sound of Christmas really tells In the ring of the Salvation Army bells Calling out into the dark Calling out to the heart Ringing out in the throng Singing out a heralding song Give a little, not a lot Give a little for their lot They have little, but are not less Give your coins and let them bless A tale of generosity tells In the ring of the Salvation Army’s bells ©Paul Curtis   “Christmas Tree in 1953“ by Robert Lesher It glows in a slow pirouette, candy colors and silver glass. As a child, I wanted to live in it, sleep in the bends of its branches, hollows that ran deep to its trunk, pretending to believe that the gifts below were without bottom, endless. ©Robert Lesher   “While Lighting Christmas Candles” by Betty Lou Hebert Christmas past has always been A time of smiles and joy. Of leafing through the catalog To find that special toy. For each one of the children. Anticipate their glee And such rapport in everything Concerning you and me. We would agree on each event And all the decorations. Look forward to festivities And visiting relations. This year is different than the rest It saddens me to say, But yet, I am determined To make a happy day. Your spirit will be with me All through the festive season. I'll keep alive the things we did And you will be the reason! This was your favorite time of year So how could I do less? While lighting Christmas candles, Your spirit I will bless! ©Betty Lou Hebert   “Climbing the Christmas Tree” by Betty Lou Hebert Our Christmas tree was lovely. We'd spent the afternoon Decorating every branch. It would be evening soon And then the lights would blink on So we could anticipate How it would look with presents. We all could hardly wait! My youngest sis was only three And she was so impressed. She didn't want to go to bed. It made her feel depressed! The rest of us went off to find A snack that we could eat, When suddenly an awful crash Just knocked us off our feet! We ran into the living room And there upon the floor Our tree was lying crumpled And no way could we ignore Two little legs that stuck out from A leafy branch or two, For sis had tried to climb the tree And havoc did ensue! So many ornaments were lost. It was a sorry sight, But at least sis was quite okay So things turned out all right! ©Betty Lou Hebert   “James Bay December” by Robert Lesher Outside the window, deep with grey rumble and such cold, big winter rolls across the sky. From within, clapboard homes weeze and flex with light, searching for, pushing gasps of warmth against the worn panes and ripple texture of pre-war glass. The cushioned ambiance of kerosene lamps and oil heat has come again. Down paneled hallways, to each living room; thick, orange-brown aromas cluster, curl; flat pans of hot granola, cinnamon and cooked apples. Clasping mugs in both hands      we drink tea with honey, listen to Van Morrison; his Irish taste murmuring pauses of hope, cat-like rhythms; forest green blending with the steam, gathered warm against our palms. ©Robert Lesher   “This Christ Child” (pantoum) by Joyce Johnson “This Christ Child” shall the Savior be. The animals have come around  to this mother name of Mary, as angels make a joyful sound. The animals have come around the kings who come from far away. As angels make a joyful sound they must leave at the break of day. The kings who come from far way report that danger doth abound. They must leave at the break of day. Safety from Herod must be found. Reports that danger doth abound , sent to Earth from Heaven above. Safety from Herod must be found, warnings for precious Child they love. Sent to the Earth from heaven above, to this mother name of Mary warnings for precious child they love. This Christ Child shall the Savior be. ©Joyce Johnson   “Christmas Stockings” (tanka form) by Joyce Johnson No fancy stockings And no big mantle either Every day stockings Hung over a chair with care For old Santa Claus to fill Just as excited As the richest kids in town Who hung fancy socks On big beautiful mantels With higher expectations Those hard scrabble days The most sweets that we saw Were in our stocking On that cold December morn Along with a juicy orange ©Joyce Johnson 11/6/11   “Christmas Time” by Bill Cottringer It’s near Christmas time, But time for something new; Not eliminating what’s true— The “Christ” in Christ-mas, Not acknowledged by some, Not even believed by others, But always present in spirit; There in every religion, There in every philosophy, There in every Psychology, There in every culture, There in every moment of life; Just called something different, Even untrue or non-existent. But why all the fuss, In mandating “Happy Holidays?” Humbly admitting life’s author Or bravely stating the real way, Is merely the substitute words, We choose with thought or not, Which really don’t alter the truth, After the words are gone. “Merry Christmas to all” Are the words I recall. ©Bill Cottringer   “Christmas Is . . .” by Marcia Miller-Twiford Candy canes and sugar plum fairies sneaking kisses ‘neath the mistletoe brightly wrapped packages under the tree sweet children’s faces all aglow. Sounds of Christmas carols cuddling up by the fire’s glow the scent of pine and cinnamon little tin soldiers all in a row. Cookies to bake and fudge to make pauses to think of Christmases past inevitably letting go a heart-felt sigh for memories which last and last. Midst the hustle and bustle the day comes when in reverence we remember it’s Our Lord’s birth we celebrate on the twenty-fifth of each December. So gather together and sing out loud and clear, "Happy Birthday Lord Jesus, We rejoice in your birth on this, the holiest day of the year." © Marcia Miller-Twiford   “On a Christmas Eve Morn” (A True Happening For Me in 2007) by Marcia Miller-Twiford The early morning chiming of the doorbell awakens me from a slumber deep. The front door opens and on this cloudy day your arrival brings sunshine into the room. I look into your eyes of blue and see stars within the overcast morning light. Your arduous journey has stubbled your face and you tremble with emotion and fatigue. Then your voice dispels the silence and all I hear is the music of your words. I look at all six-feet-two of you and memories crowd for places in my heart. Your arms wrap around me and loneliness belongs to before today as your melodious love-filled voice utters, “Merry Christmas Mom. I love you.” © Marcia Miller-Twiford   "We Still Say Merry Christmas"  by Dr. James Martin We are being told in this incredible day That there are things we simply should not say. To mention God, or Heaven, or Hell To many, amazingly, does not set well. How is it that we have to this point digressed? What is it that was early in life not stressed? Political correctness has clearly run amuck With all the disgusting, deplorable, yuck. Now that the birthday of Christ is near More vicious attacks we daily hear. It seems to many who cautiously discern That there is something we need to spurn. Freedom of speech is by all held dear And is certainly that which none should fear. To say, however, that it applies not to all Will hopefully cause some to common sense recall. Faith’s expression seems to be the thing That many wish to silence fling. Sadly many simply go along And resort to this unrealistic throng. Will we simply be repressed? Is “Merry Christmas!” not to be expressed? Hopefully, this will not be the case Hopefully, another freedom we will not see erased. ©Dr. James E. Martin   "Is It Christmas Yet?" by Dr. James E. Martin As another Christmas season draws nearer still, And folks get excited, as they surely will, A question remains unanswered yet, Is there something that many seem to forget? What is this time of year all about? What creates from even the timid a shout? With all the excitement in the air, Is the real focus to any, a care? To mention the central issue in this day and age Entices in many a fit of rage. Political correctness is running amuck And on this topic, many seem stuck. To mention Christ is the ultimate “no-no.” To speak of His birth is a place to not go. They reject the mention of that Holy name As they continue in their denial game. There is, however, a simple truth to learn. He will not forever continue to be spurned. For He will have the final say, As each stands before Him on judgment day. To give Him the recognition to which He is due, Is a thing that is really very easy to do. While it may not be popular with everyone You will ultimately be glad, the right thing you have done. ©Dr. James E. Martin   “Christmas Gateau” by Paul Curtis It is time for me to make My most special Christmas cake The only thing you need to start Is the most joyous open heart Then add by the pound All the love that can be found Delightful festive merriments And simple humble ingredients Thankfulness and Gratitude Lashings of positive attitude Laced with Christmas cheer And a cup of Christmas beer An abundance of good wishes With lots of hugs and kisses Not forgetting laughter and fun Enough to serve everyone And to complete my Gateau I garnish with sprigs of mistletoe ©Paul Curtis   “When Christmas Wears Its Tinselled Gown” by Paul Curtis When Christmas wears its tinselled gown Joy fills the streets around the town We must banish those who wear a frown As we celebrate the King with the holy crown ©Paul Curtis   ”More Nuts Than Can Be Cracked” by Paul Curtis We buy more drink than can be drunk We buy more food than can be eaten We give more gifts than can be appreciated But for fun Christmas can't be beaten ©Paul Curtis   Carols by Ted L Glines Toss out your darkly woes let nothing in but light, for joy rebirths our sorry world this lovely Christmas night. "The first Noel, the angel did say, Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay; In fields where they lay keeping their sheep, On a cold winter's night that was so deep." See the little children peek peek peek to see excitement gleaming in their eyes, what did Santa bring for thee? "Angels we have heard on high, Singing sweetly through the night, And the mountains in reply Echoing their brave delight." Granny swaddles afghan smiling old and loving tears, proud of all her memories, family Christmas through the years. "Peace on the earth, good will to men, From heaven's all-gracious King. The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing." Soldiers wearing Christmas hats wishing they could be with you warmed by all the hugs you send and they are sending you hugs, too. "O little town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie! Above thy deep and dreamless sleep The silent stars go by." Invite a homeless person to share your hearth tonight, learn what joy is all about purely giving love and light. "Rudolf, the red-nosed reindeer had a very shiny nose. And if you ever saw him, you would even say it glows." Jolly is a state of mind, no room for darkly fright, we drink a toast to life and love no CNN tonight. "For auld lang syne, my dear For auld lang syne, We'll take a cup o' kindness yet For auld lang syne!" I love you oh so dearly, you cherished friend of mine, I wish you Splendid Christmas and a New Year so sublime! ~First published four years ago as "Christmas 2007" when we were hoping to see our soldiers coming home soon. ©Ted L Glines   We Say by Ted L Glines We say many things the carol sings in this day of giving in the midst of living ... we say ... hang mistletoe like this so they'll all steal a kiss now a stocking for Joey 'cause he's been a good boy and here's one for Shirley she'll be getting up early for the gifts and the tree bringing grins of sheer glee ...and we say... the snowman is cute in his white fuzzy suit pass the egg nog right here such a very warm cheer with tinsel decorations and gift celebrations and all gathered near in goodness this year ...can we say... to one who would please us Happy Birthday Jesus ©Ted L Glines   A Special Time of Year by Rose Marie Rideout Mom is in the kitchen, Baking up a storm. Dad is in the workshop, Making toys from early morn. Nan is knitting socks, and mitts to keep us warm, While Pop is storing wood, for the stove throughout the storms. Christmas is coming, It’s not that far away, We have to be extra good, For this important day. It’s a very important Birthday, On this day a special Babe was born, So we can celebrate Each year on Christmas morn. So many burning bright lights, The Christmas music loud and clear, Happiness and love surrounds us Christmas time each year. November 21, 2011 ©Rose Marie Rideout   Christmas Cometh by Ingrid Showalter Swift Through a wind that never stops blowing the house holds fast to the light flickering candles in each window hope calling out over a canvas of landscape base painted in solid white auburn gold shadows creep along the horizon where morning and night crest like waves upon each other frothing sudden color in the fight ruby red undertones flame up across the frost filled clouds then die away slowly to golds and then ice gray and then moonless white in the lights of a passing car... flakes ignite..dazzle and die away again an owl ...its bright black eyes against round white face calls out "ahhhhooooooooooo" swoops down across the vast field its feathers struck out white against the dark of night like white flames held aloft..........or flashing silver polished metal against black forest and gray sky... and I am reminded of a book from my childhood that read... "Who.... who... who ....are you?" the candles flicker on dainty dancers of hope leaping and falling and leaping again... so like myself...I have to wonder... do they never learn? do they never give up? Turning from the window I smile at all the richness of the bright within the colors of red and green... the sparkle of packages and bows not yet even wrapped but that will lie beneath my tree in time the crackle of a wood fire...the smells of pine bows and of things I have collected to celebrate these days and I am merry ...in my soul ever hopeful ever believing...ever true ever listening for your key hit hoping it will still come someday... if I am lucky...perhaps before Christmas has grown cold in the hearth and heart once more the owl calls out again "Who who who............... are you?" and I know who I am I am a woman who loves a man and for him I keep on the light and ration like gold the oil ©Ingrid Showalter Swift   Christmas Past by Ingrid Showalter Swift I have known chestnuts roasting on an open fire (they are kind of mushy if truth be told) children eyes wide in wonder and jumping with glee at a mound of gifts...awe struck by Santa's enormous boxes bulging socks by fireside mimosas to see the young twenty somethings through the gauntlet of parents beloved but often difficult I have known trees that glittered beyond imagination and the often too generous gifts of one who loved me but not all Christmases can be this way and if I reflect on many ...whose names I can not ever know who have never known such moments such beauty ...such warmth such belonging I realize that if mine can no longer be that way I am joined by so many all of whom I wish I could hug and hold and make their Christmas bright a wonder of soulful flight but I can not make it all OK for everyone if I could I would give each child a mound of joy a box of wonder and each man ,woman and child the glitter of gold if only in the reflection of beauty in a child's eyes Christmas as all it was meant to be not in material possession bought or opened but in the knowing of being loved utterly from birth a reflection of the universe a facet of God himself each crystal cell of you is of the one and in so being... beautiful beyond words written or uttered beyond actions kind or cruel each and every one is beyond loved beyond valuable each and everyone... If I could give that gift of unadulterated love to you I would ...if I could find you in your solitude ...in your silence..in your cold place and give you gifts upon gifts of love that no box can possibly hold no joy denied no hand un-held no heart unmet but I am just a girl in the world who loves you unfettered by the earthly things untouched by realities and still ...YOU ARE LOVED..whoever you are..wherever you are in the world cruel or kind rich or poor perfect or flawed...I bring you love from a place where all such things no longer exist From a universe unfettered by time and place...unstopped by hard of hand and lack of grace I bring you love that no one can stop and no one can EVER disgrace It is yours by right ...and it ever will be ©Ingrid Showalter Swift   A Christmas TRUTH by Ingrid Showalter Swift If you are being cruel if you are being unfair if you injure by word or lack of word if you hit if you perish if you die a little bit daily hear my words You have a right ...an innate right to joy...to hope to live and to love You do not have the right to injure others and if you think by staying in your trap you serve you are wrong STOP leave off...let go even ...GO if need be the world is a changed place no one is served by cruelty save that which we do not even one of us -wish to serve No situation is un-bendable...no obligation a demand Think of joy...think of hope...for yourself and know the universe knows how to mend the broken when the broken are innocent Cruelty from frustration and anger at being trapped is not love it is cruelty No man or woman came to this life wanting to injure look in the pure eyes of a child and know you are that child To every child beneath the bed cowering in fear you will be saved To every woman who took the heat that the child be spared you will be saved to every man or woman who looked yourself in the mirror in horror you too will be saved but first you must STOP...the madness move into the stream of hope and begin again anew not just for you but for all you injure begin again brand-new Life streams before you with an effervescent source of hope there is no obstacle you can not overcome you can find the source and be born again not in some cheesy sense but in truth but first you MUST let go and find your inner hope Look within and ask yourself...where ...Oh ...where does hope live? and go forth to find it..no matter what that means it is the greatest gift you can give yourself and so give everyone around you HOPE to be happy...to live a life that makes you the best you can possibly be Loving giving ...joyful THAT is the greatest gift you can give this Christmas and so I pray the greatest gift I can give to you ©Ingrid Showalter Swift   "Christmases That Used to Be" by Toni D. Helfrick Remembering times that used to be Times now precious, just to me, With kids at the table, all around And no one’s feet could touch the ground. Christmas times were special ones Pretty lights, and snow in tons- Every gift a special treat Lots of giggles and tickling feet. The holly and the ivy, there Carols sung and cookies where, All awaited Santa’s sleigh Then of course, was Christmas Day! Homemade ornaments for the tree, Homemade gifts for us to see- Children’s laughter, family feasts Long lost cousins all would meet. Cold little noses in from the snow, A rusty sled that ‘just won’t go’, Making snowmen, marching, too Seeing them through the window do What I once did, when I was small, Playing with friends and having a ball. Ah, life was oh, so simple then- All the children under ten, They didn’t ask for much, you see, When they were eight, or six or three. Whatever thing that Santa brought They loved and never gave a thought, That they had wanted something else- All was peace within the house. There were long lists for Santa, though But everybody knew it so- That Santa, he’d give what he had- And they would love it, and be glad. The memories of Christmas past Are here with me, to always last, I smile and gaze upon the tree- These happy thoughts belong to me! © Toni D. Helfrick   “Reason For Christmas” by Samuel E. Stone Mistletoe and those folks you know, children playing as they run about, a chilling winter’s wind will blow, the chatter so loud you have to shout. Family and friends we hold so dear, fire log burning, memories to last, a time to have those you love near, enjoying while reminiscing the past. A time for gifts for the young and old, happy smiles, presents under the tree, celebrating Jesus’ birth the story told, loving sacrifices made for you and me. A time to be thankful for Jesus’ birth, no greater act of love has ever been done, God giving His Son to save us on earth, mystery of three person all in but one. Jesus’ time on earth taught us true love, the real reason for the Christmas season, His guidance will lead us to Heaven above, for our salvation was His only real reason. Samuel E. Stone, Copyright© 2011, All Audience   For Page 2 click here For Our Christmas Essays click here For Our Christmas Short Stories click here