Christmas Poems

Illustration: Elaine Hill

Christmas Cat

……………….

The Christmas cat sits still and sleek;

The Christmas cat is wary.

She’s been in trouble twice this week;

She’s finding Christmas scary.

……………………………..

The Christmas cat tried to join in;

She played with Christmas lights.

She pulled the tree right off the stool

And gave them all a fright.

………………………..

The Christmas cat likes Christmas food;

She likes the Christmas meat.

She likes to lick the turkey fat

And get between our feet.

……………………

The Christmas cat is shut outside:

She’d grabbed the Christmas fairy.

She’s been in trouble twice this week;

She’s finding Christmas SCARY!

…………………………….

Trevor Millum

……………………….

The Star’s Story

………………………………………………..

I am a wandering star,

An astronomical event,

Surely not a portent

Of some heavenly god’s descent.

………………………………..

I may travel where e’er I wish

Across the reach of space:

It is my whim to stop and rest

Above this silent place.

……………………………

And what of these three learned men

Who trail me through the skies?

It’s whispered that they’re noble

But should I think them wise?

………………………………..

Yet, somehow, I feel it’s right

To light this stable lowly

And watch as shepherds pay respect

To a child they say is holy.

………………………………………………………….

John H. Rice

Three Slow Visitors

………………

When Christmas is over

And New Year is past

We three slow visitors arrive at last.

……………….

Too late for the angels

We wonder and long

For the piercing white beauty of feathery songs.

……………….

We wandered the wastes

Where the wind and the sand

Whispered and shifted and re-made the land.

………………..

And now by the Maker

Of all things we stand

Mysterious gifts in our trembling hands.

…………………..

The gold and the incense

Are all fine and good

And the myrrh has its meaning too – all understood.

……………………..

But here – at our mercy

Lies God – and we shiver

Just what is the gift here?  And who is the giver?

…………………….

Jan Dean

Roasting the Phoenix

………………………

This year we’re having Phoenix

for our Christmas dinner,

and if Mum doesn’t burn it,

it’s sure to be a winner.

……………

Oh no! The oven’s smoking,

our dinner is on fire.

it’s a raging furnace,

a Phoenix funeral pyre.

………………..

Mum puts on the oven gloves,

and she lets out a roar 

“that Phoenix has grown feathers,

it’s fluttering at the door.”

…………………..

Help! Somebody let it out!

This is a job for Dad.

Mum’s sorry that she stuffed it.

It’s looking really mad.

………………..

So Dad opens the oven

and the bird soars off in flight.

Mum has to have a sherry,

she’s had such a fright.

………………

It rose up from the ashes,

so dinners off, I fear.

I wish we’d had a turkey

like every other year.

………………..

Jane Clarke

…………………….

*Just a Few Sleeps to Go*

………………….

How’s it going, Father Christmas?

“I’m snowed under,” he says,

“still busy sorting toys

to pile upon my sledge.”

…………………..

“The stars are all lined up,” he adds,

“in time for Christmas Day.

So be good girls and boys and

I’ll soon be on my way.”

………………

The little elves are helping

and Rudolph’s at the ready.

Just a few sleeps left to go,

so snuggle down with Teddy! 

…………………

Celia Warren

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s