Christmas Poems

little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly
i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraid
look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy…

Frosty days and ice-still nights,
Fir trees trimmed with tiny lights,
Sound of sleigh bells in the snow,
That was Christmas long ago.Tykes on sleds and shouts of glee,
Icy-window filigree,
Sugarplums and candle glow,
Part of Christmas long ago.Footsteps stealthy on the stair,
Sweet-voiced carols in the air,
Stocking hanging in a row,
Tell of Christmas long ago.Starry nights so still and blue,
Good friends calling out to you,
Life, so fact, will always slow…
For dreams of Christmas long ago.

Christmas a time for children
That is for certain
But for others
It is time to love your brothers.
A time where we do see peace,
Where fighting actually does cease.
Giving gifts and sharing with all,
When the world seems anew.
Like that first Christmas morn,
When Jesus was born.
A miracle that happened long ago,
Still stops our world and shines a glow.

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Christmas is forever, not for just one day,
for loving, sharing, giving, are not to put away
like bells and lights and tinsel, in some box upon a shelf.
The good you do for others is good you do yourself.

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.

Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.

As Christmas comes near the world changes
we see people’s attitudes and caring ways.
People helping people really doing their best
To ensure this Christmas is one that will bring happiness.
A time of the year when the heart is open
To help others and to love one another.
If only this attitude could last all year long
Our world would be so much more peaceful
And happiness would be for all.

…And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, 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 clothes 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 they 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 chin was as white as the snow…

A song was heard at Christmas
To wake the midnight sky:
A saviour’s birth, and peace on earth,
And praise to God on high.The angels sang at Christmas
With all the hosts above,
And still we sing the newborn King
His glory and his love.

Why do the bells of Christmas ring?
Why do little children sing?Once a lovely shining star,
Seen by shepherds from afar,
Gently moved until its light
Made a manger’s cradle bright.There a darling baby lay,
Pillowed soft upon the hay;
And its mother sung and smiled:
“This is Christ, the holy Child!”Therefore bells for Christmas ring,
Therefore little children sing.

Music I love -­ but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine -­
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.Though Darkness still her empire keep,
And hours must pass, ere morning break;
From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
That music kindly bids us wake:
It calls us, with an angel’s voice,
To wake, and worship, and rejoice;

C is for the Christ who came
To this lowly earth.
H is for the harps that rang
At our Saviour’s birth.
R is for the ringing bells,
Telling Christmas-tide.
I is for the crystal ice
Where we go to slide.
S is for the schoolboy’s sled
When he coasting goes.
T is for poor Tommy Jones
Jack Frost bit his nose.
M is for the merry part
Of this Christmas day,
A is for the apple pies
Grandma put away.
S is for old Santa Claus,
Coming here to-night.

…This world is wild as an old wives’ tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

Cookies baking in the kitchen-
The smell floats through the air;
Mom is making Christmas
with her usual merry flairThe house she gaily decorated,
Each gift she stiched with love,
And we’ll gather around the Christmas tree
for an evening of old-fashioned funThis evening she’ll sing a carol for us
With her angel’s voice.
Yes, Mom is making Christmas-
A true reason to rejoice.

I have a message for you,
And I do believe it’s grand.
During this Christmas Season,
It’s time to take a stand.Remember the reason for Christmas,
And what it represents.
Jesus, loving and welcoming,
It’s not just about presents.So take this Christmas message,
And pass it far and wide.
Christmas is a time for caring,
Let’s share this message, amplified.

Old Santa Claus is a jolly man
Who brings us lots of toys, sir;
And none are happier Christmas time
Than little girls and boys, sir.Have you not seen our Santa Claus,
With hair so snowy white, sir?
Just hang your stocking Christmas eve,
He’ll come that very night, sir.And if you watch, perhaps you’ll see
This friend in furs hid deep, sir.
But I have never seen him once
I’m always fast asleep, sir.Santa Claus is jolly, sir;
Santa Claus is kind, sir;
Santa Claus on Christmas eve
Comes riding on the wind, sir.

Before the ice is in the pools—
Before the skaters go,
Or any check at nightfall
Is tarnished by the snow—Before the fields have finished,
Before the Christmas tree,
Wonder upon wonder
Will arrive to me!

I’d like a stocking made for a giant,
And a meeting house full of toys,
Then I’d go out in a happy hunt
For the poor little girls and boys;Up the street and down the street,
And across and over the town,
I’d search and find them everyone,
Before the sun went down.

Don’t let Christmas be a time to be stressed
Don’t let Christmas be a time to overspend
Don’t let Christmas be a time to of no rest
Don’t let Christmas be a time to ignore good friends.Let Christmas be a joyous time
Let Christmas be a relaxing and happy holiday
Let Christmas be sharing of your dimes
Let Christmas be love in many ways.

Somewhere across the winter world tonight
You will be hearing chimes that fill the air;
Christmas extends its all-enfolding light
Across the distance…something we can share.You will be singing, just the same as I,
These familiar songs we know so well,
And you will see these same stars in your sky
And wish upon that brightest one that fell.I shall remember you and trim my tree,
One shining star upon the topmost bough;
I will hang wreaths of faith that all may see —
Tonight I glimpse beyond the hear and now.And all the time that we must be apart
I keep a candle in my heart.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die…Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Bright Christmas stars shine on high,
Golden stars in the wint’ry sky;
Christmas candles in windows bright
Send s greeting into the night;While in our hearts the Christmas flame,
Glows with a love like his who came,
The infant Christ of lowly birth,
To bring good will and peace to earth.

…So he paused. And the Grinch put his hand to his ear.
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow.
It started in low. Then it started to grow.
But the sound wasn’t sad! Why, this sound sounded merry!
It couldn’t be so! But it WAS merry! VERY!
He stared down at Whoville! The Grinch popped his eyes!
Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise!
Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!
He HADN’T stopped Christmas from coming! IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: “How could it be so?”
“It came with out ribbons! It came without tags!”
“It came without packages, boxes or bags!”
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before!
“Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “doesn’t come from a store.”
“Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more!”…

Three Kings came riding from far away,
Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar;
Three Wise Men out of the East were they,
And they travelled by night and they slept by day,
For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.The star was so beautiful, large and clear,
That all the other stars of the sky
Became a white mist in the atmosphere,
And by this they knew that the coming was near
Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows,
Three caskets of gold with golden keys;
Their robes were of crimson silk with rows
Of bells and pomegranates and furbelows,
Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees.And so the Three Kings rode into the West,
Through the dusk of the night, over hill and dell,
And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast,
And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest,
With the people they met at some wayside well.

“Of the child that is born,” said Baltasar,
“Good people, I pray you, tell us the news;
For we in the East have seen his star,
And have ridden fast, and have ridden far,
To find and worship the King of the Jews.”

And the people answered, “You ask in vain;
We know of no King but Herod the Great!”
They thought the Wise Men were men insane,
As they spurred their horses across the plain,
Like riders in haste, who cannot wait.

And when they came to Jerusalem,
Herod the Great, who had heard this thing,
Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them;
And said, “Go down unto Bethlehem,
And bring me tidings of this new king.”

So they rode away; and the star stood still,
The only one in the grey of morn;
Yes, it stopped—it stood still of its own free will,
Right over Bethlehem on the hill,
The city of David, where Christ was born.

And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard,
Through the silent street, till their horses turned
And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard;
But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred,
And only a light in the stable burned.

And cradled there in the scented hay,
In the air made sweet by the breath of kine,
The little child in the manger lay,
The child, that would be king one day
Of a kingdom not human, but divine.

His mother Mary of Nazareth
Sat watching beside his place of rest,
Watching the even flow of his breath,
For the joy of life and the terror of death
Were mingled together in her breast.

They laid their offerings at his feet:
The gold was their tribute to a King,
The frankincense, with its odor sweet,
Was for the Priest, the Paraclete,
The myrrh for the body’s burying.

And the mother wondered and bowed her head,
And sat as still as a statue of stone,
Her heart was troubled yet comforted,
Remembering what the Angel had said
Of an endless reign and of David’s throne.

Then the Kings rode out of the city gate,
With a clatter of hoofs in proud array;
But they went not back to Herod the Great,
For they knew his malice and feared his hate,
And returned to their homes by another way.

As Christmas approaches we feel the winter air
May your heart be warmed by feelings that you share
Take the time to tell your love ones just how much you care.This time of year is a time to treasure
One which can bring so much pleasure
With so much love it is hard to measure.Special gifts to be found
And beauty all around
With music filling the sound.Oh Christmas brings such joy
To so many little girls and boys
As they look forward to Santa and new toys.

May the world never forget
how this all began, the reason
that we celebrate this holy season.

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Saviour’s birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
‘Til He appear’d and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine…

Chimneys standing in a row,
Down each one will Santa go.
He goes down one, comes back alive,
And then tries two, three, four, and five.Santa has a wondrous pack,
This he carries on his back;
From it he takes candies, drums,
Dolls, books, trumpets, when he comes.Near the chimney stockings swing,
What to them will Santa bring?
All of them I’m sure he’ll fill,
Make them round and stiff and still.Morning kisses curly heads
Lying snugly in their beds,
O how quickly they hop out,
Seizing stockings with a shout!

On the hemlock and the pine,
Light the candles, make them shine;
String the rows of corn so white
‘Mong the gifts and tinsels bright.

Storemen’s windows all look gay,
‘Cause it’s near to Christmas day.
Come and look in, girls and boys,
Get a peep at Christmas joys.

In high towers out of sight
Great bells ring with all their might;
Hear one, then another chime,
Telling it is Christmas time.

In the distance, look afar,
With their eyes upon the star,
Come on camels wise men three,
They the Christmas King shall see.

The city had withdrawn into itself
And left at last the country to the country;
When between whirls of snow not come to lie
And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove
A stranger to our yard, who looked the city,
Yet did in country fashion in that there
He sat and waited till he drew us out
A-buttoning coats to ask him who he was.
He proved to be the city come again
To look for something it had left behind
And could not do without and keep its Christmas.
He asked if I would sell my Christmas trees;
My woods—the young fir balsams like a place
Where houses all are churches and have spires.
I hadn’t thought of them as Christmas Trees.
I doubt if I was tempted for a moment
To sell them off their feet to go in cars
And leave the slope behind the house all bare,
Where the sun shines now no warmer than the moon.
I’d hate to have them know it if I was.
Yet more I’d hate to hold my trees except
As others hold theirs or refuse for them,
Beyond the time of profitable growth,
The trial by market everything must come to.
I dallied so much with the thought of selling.
Then whether from mistaken courtesy
And fear of seeming short of speech, or whether
From hope of hearing good of what was mine, I said,
“There aren’t enough to be worth while.”
“I could soon tell how many they would cut,
You let me look them over.”“You could look.
But don’t expect I’m going to let you have them.”
Pasture they spring in, some in clumps too close
That lop each other of boughs, but not a few
Quite solitary and having equal boughs
All round and round. The latter he nodded “Yes” to,
Or paused to say beneath some lovelier one,
With a buyer’s moderation, “That would do.”
I thought so too, but wasn’t there to say so.
We climbed the pasture on the south, crossed over,
And came down on the north. He said, “A thousand.”“A thousand Christmas trees!—at what apiece?”He felt some need of softening that to me:
“A thousand trees would come to thirty dollars.”

Then I was certain I had never meant
To let him have them. Never show surprise!
But thirty dollars seemed so small beside
The extent of pasture I should strip, three cents
(For that was all they figured out apiece),
Three cents so small beside the dollar friends
I should be writing to within the hour
Would pay in cities for good trees like those,
Regular vestry-trees whole Sunday Schools
Could hang enough on to pick off enough.
A thousand Christmas trees I didn’t know I had!
Worth three cents more to give away than sell,
As may be shown by a simple calculation.
Too bad I couldn’t lay one in a letter.
I can’t help wishing I could send you one,
In wishing you herewith a Merry Christmas.

I am writing to say there is not much I need
I will let you choose and no matter I will be happy indeed.
You can get me some crayons or a book or anything that is red;
We get lots of snow so you could bring me a sled.Thank you Santa for visiting me
When you get here make sure to look at my tree.
For beside it, I will leave some cookies and milk for you
For the reindeer I will leave carrots too.

The kings they came from out the south,
All dressed in ermine fine;
They bore Him gold and chrysoprase,
And gifts of precious wine.The shepherds came from out the north,
Their coats were brown and old;
They brought Him little new-born lambs—
They had not any gold.The wise men came from out the east,
And they were wrapped in white;
The star that led them all the way
Did glorify the night.The angels came from heaven high,
And they were clad with wings;
And lo, they brought a joyful song
The host of heaven sings.

The kings they knocked upon the door,
The wise men entered in,
The shepherds followed after them
To hear the song begin.

The angels sang through all the night
Until the rising sun,
But little Jesus fell asleep
Before the song was done.

Santa, do you know where heaven is?
Maybe your reindeer know the way.
For I have a special present
I need delivered on Christmas day.For Christmas is a time for sharing
With those we hold so dear.
Please take this gift, with all my love
For an angel who’s no longer here.It’s wrapped up in all our memories
We once shared from the past.
The ribbons and bows are all our dreams.
Inside there’s a broken heart.It’s such a special parcel.
Please Santa, don’t delay.
I would love it to be in heaven
In time for Christmas day.

The spirit of Christmas needs to be superseded by the Spirit of Christ.
The spirit of Christmas is annual; the Spirit of Christ is eternal.
The spirit of Christmas is sentimental; the Spirit of Christ is supernatural.
The spirit of Christmas is a human product; the Spirit of Christ is a divine person.
That makes all the difference in the world.

Our Christmas tree, stood straight and tall,
We had it standing in the hall,
With decorations, sparkling bright,
And baubles, glittering in the light,
Rich tinsel laced around branches wide,
With bells and bows, that could be spied
Hiding among the dark green pine,
In silver and gold, boldly they did shine,
And at the very top, such a wondrous sight,
A star was placed there, which gave delight.
The whole effect so pleasured the eye.
We planted it outside, now it’s 18 feet high.
This year it will once again, be a thrill,
Hung with big coloured lights, in the crisp winter chill.

The littlest Christmas tree
lived in a meadow of green
among a family
of tall evergreens.
He learned how to whisper
the evergreen song
with the slightest of wind
that came gently along.He watched as the birds
made a home out of twigs
and couldn’t wait till
he, too, was big.
For all of the trees
offered a home,
the maple, the pine, and the oak,
who’s so strong.”I hate being little,”
the little tree said,
“I can’t even turn colors
like the maple turns red.
I can’t help the animals
like the mighty old oak.
He shelters them all
in his wide mighty cloak.”The older tree said,
“Why, little tree, you don’t know?
The story of a mighty king
from the land with no snow?”
Little tree questioned,
“A land with no snow?”
“Yes!” said old tree,
“A very old story,
from so long ago.”

“A star appeared,
giving great light
over a manger
on long winter’s night.
A baby was born,
a king of all kings,
and with him comes love
over all things.”

“He lived in a country
all covered in sand,
and laid down his life
to save all of man.”

Little tree thought of the gift
given by him,
then the big tree said with the
happiest grin,
“We’re not just trees,
but a reminder of that day.
There’s a much bigger part
of a role that we play!”

“For on Christmas Eve,
my life I’ll lay down,
in exchange for a happier,
loving ground.
And as I stand dying,
they’ll adorn me in trim.
This all will be done
in memory of him.”

“Among a warm fire,
with family and friends,
in the sweet songs of Christmas,
I’ll find my great end.
Then ever so gently,
He’ll come down to see
and take me to heaven,
Jesus and me.”

“So you see, little tree,
we are not like the oak
who shelters all things
beneath his great cloak.
Nor are we like the maple
in fall,
whose colors leave many
standing in awe.”

“The gift that we give
is ourselves, limb for limb,
the greatest of honor,
in memory of him.”

The little tree bowed
his head down and cried
and thought of the king
who willingly died.
For what kind of gift
can anyone give
than to lay down your life
when you wanted to live?

A swelling of pride
came over the tree.
Can all of this happen
Because of just me?
Can I really bring honor?
By adorning a home?
By reminding mankind
that he’s never alone?

With this thought, little tree
began singing with glee.
Happy and proud
to be a true Christmas tree.

You can still hear them singing
even the smallest in height,
singing of Christmas
and that one holy night.

Christmas is coming, the close of another year
People are happy they spread much good cheer
More so at this time of year, my friend
Hold no grudges and quickly make amends.In all that you do, may love be the rule
Love is stronger this season of Yule.
Christmas brings peace in the world which is good
If love and peace would stay, if only it would!The magic of Christmas falls like a spell
If this feeling would stay troubles would dispel.
The magic of Christmas it comes from above
And fills us with goodness and lots of love.

December twenty-first
we gather at the white Church festooned
red and green, the tree flashing
green-red lights beside the altar.
After the children of Sunday School
recite Scripture, sing songs,
and scrape out solos,
they retire to dress for the finale,
to perform the pageant
again: Mary and Joseph kneeling
cradleside, Three Kings,
shepherds and shepherdesses. Their garments
are bathrobes with mothholes,
cut down from the Church’s ancestors.
Standing short and long,
they stare in all directions for mothers,
sisters and brothers,
giggling and waving in recognition,
and at the South Danbury
Church, a moment before Santa
arrives with her ho-hos
and bags of popcorn, in the half-dark
of whole silence, God
enters the world as a newborn again.

Star of the East, that long ago
Brought wise men on their way
Where, angels singing to and fro,
The Child of Bethlehem lay –
Above that Syrian hill afar
Thou shinest out to-night, O Star!Star of the East, the night were drear
But for the tender grace
That with thy glory comes to cheer
Earth’s loneliest, darkest place;
For by that charity we see
Where there is hope for all and me.Star of the East! show us the way
In wisdom undefiled
To seek that manger out and lay
Our gifts before the child –
To bring our hearts and offer them
Unto our King in Bethlehem!

Almighty Framer of the Skies!
O let our pure devotion rise,
Like Incense in thy Sight!
Wrapt in impenetrable Shade
The Texture of our Souls were made
Till thy Command gave light.
The Sun of Glory gleam’d the Ray,
Refin’d the Darkness into Day,
And bid the Vapours fly;
Impell’d by his eternal Love
He left his Palaces above
To cheer our gloomy Sky.How shall we celebrate the day,
When God appeared in mortal clay,
The mark of worldly scorn;
When the Archangel’s heavenly Lays,
Attempted the Redeemer’s Praise
And hail’d Salvation’s Morn!A Humble Form the Godhead wore,
The Pains of Poverty he bore,
To gaudy Pomp unknown;
Tho’ in a human walk he trod
Still was the Man Almighty God
In Glory all his own.Despis’d, oppress’d, the Godhead bears
The Torments of this Vale of tears;
Nor bade his Vengeance rise;
He saw the Creatures he had made,
Revile his Power, his Peace invade;
He saw with Mercy’s Eyes.

How shall we celebrate his Name,
Who groan’d beneath a Life of shame
In all Afflictions tried!
The Soul is raptured to concieve
A Truth, which Being must believe,
The God Eternal died.

My Soul exert thy Powers, adore,
Upon Devotion’s plumage sar
To celebrate the Day;
The God from whom Creation sprung
Shall animate my grateful Tongue;
From him I’ll catch the Lay!

THIS box, mine own sweet darling, thou wilt find
With many a varied sweetmeat’s form supplied;
The fruits are they of holy Christmas tide,
But baked indeed, for children’s use design’d.
I’d fain, in speeches sweet with skill combin’d,
Poetic sweetmeats for the feast provide;
But why in such frivolities confide?
Perish the thought, with flattery to blind!
One sweet thing there is still, that from within,
Within us speaks,–that may be felt afar;
This may be wafted o’er to thee alone.
If thou a recollection fond canst win,
As if with pleasure gleam’d each well-known star,
The smallest gift thou never wilt disown.

I thought of an old-fashioned Christmas
When the world was aglitter with snow,
When stars, in their lockets of velvet,
Their silvery beams rain below.Where a Christmas tree stands in a corner
Decked out in the season’s attire,
With a pearl-white necklace of popcorn,
The stringing, the children’s desire.The shutters unclosed at the windows
And friendly the light shining there,
Like the neighbors who linger when passing,
For it is the hour of prayer.I thought of an old-fashioned Christmas
And a church in the valley of peace,
And the bell with its silver chiming
That eased our cares ere it ceased.

The peals of the laughter of children
In toyland around the green tree;
Pleasing and happy the merriment,
How wonderful childhood must be.

The logs blaze bright in the fireplace
As the hearts that are merry and gay,
As the sleighbells I hear in the distance
And wish they were coming my way.

I wish you an old-fashioned Christmas
With neighbors and family and friends,
With church bells and singing and blessing
As the old year comes to an end.