 |
 |
| Some of the greatest things to do at Christmas time is to sit around the fire and read traditional Christmas poems with the family. Here's a collection of some of my favorite Christmas poems. These poems are best enjoyed while having a hot cup of chocolate nearby. Enjoy! |
| A Child's Song of Christmas by Marjorie L. C. Pickthall My counterpane is soft as silk The blankets white as creamy milk The hay was soft to him, I know Our little Lord of long ago Above the roofs the pigeons fly In silver wheels across the sky The stable-doves they cooed to them, Mary and Christ in Bethlehem Bright shines the sun across the drifts And bright upon my Christmas gifts They brought Him incense, myrrh, and gold, Our little Lord who lived of old. O, soft and clear our mother sings, Of Christmas joy and Christmas things. God's holy angels sang to them, Mary and Christ in Bethlehem. Our hearts they hold all Christmas dear And earth seems sweet and heaven seems near O, heaven was in His sight, I know That little Child of long ago. |
| A Winter Night by Sara Teasdale My window-pane is starred with frost, The world is bitter cold-to-night, The moon is cruel, and the wind Is like a two-edged sword to smite. God pity all the homeless ones, The beggars pacing to and fro, God pity all the poor-to-night Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow. My room is like a bit of June, Warm and close-curtained fold on fold, But somewhere, like a homeless child, My heart is crying in the cold. |
 |
|
| When Santa Claus Comes -Author Unknown A good time is coming, I wish it were here, The very best time in the whole of the year; I'm counting each day on my fingers and thumbs - the weeks that must pass before Santa Claus comes. Then when the first snowflakes begin to come down, And the wind whistles sharp and the branches turn brown, I'll not mind the cold, though my fingers it numbs, For it brings the time nearer when Santa Claus comes. |
|
| 'Twas The Night Before Christmas - Clement Clarke Moore 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads. And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap. When out on the lawn arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash. Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow, Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a minature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer. With a little old driver, so lively and quick I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Coment! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, and mount to the sky! So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof, The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his toes were all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes - how the twinkled! His dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his snow was as white as the snow. The stump of his pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and a round little belly, That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose. He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good-night!" |
|