Archive for Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Poets’ Corner

December 13, 2006

Editor's note: This week, three of our poets write about Christmas.

Christmas and You

¢ To submit poetry for consideration for Poets' Corner, drop it by our office at 520 E. Fourth; mail it to P.O. Box 920, Tonganoxie 66086; or e-mail it to editor Caroline Trowbridge: ¢ We're interested in hearing from you.

Christmas is such a wonderful time,
To be shared by one and all.
With the beautiful lights all aglow,
And a backdrop of beautiful snow...

Christmas is the special time of year
To spend with the people you love.
Caring, sharing and keeping them near
And giving thanks to the Lord above...

What makes my Christmases so special?
Are the moments I spend with you.
The special love we feel for each other,
Make all my Christmas wishes come true...

So have a very merry Christmas,
And a happy new year too!
Two of my very favorite things,
Would be a Merry Christmas and you!
-- Mike Vestal

Christmas, yesterday

and today
I see the ghosts of Christmas past
Come softly in the room
They are not ghosts as Scrooge's were
Who filled the air with gloom.
My ghosts have faces all aglow
And to a little child,
They served to make the meal so real
Of Jesus, "meek and mild."
I see my Grandma, Grandpa, too,
Around the table, spread
With all the good things hearts desired,
We had no fear nor dread.
The tree stood tall in memory's book
The fragrant cedar shone;
The gifts, tho small, reflected love
Of Mom and Dad and home.
And then the ghosts took different shapes,
Of sons, then boys, now men.
And daughters, precious tiny girls,
Oh, life was good back then.
But like the Christmas carol book
The present scene becomes
I would not change the Christmas past
Nor missed a single one.
Lord, help me cherish Christmas now
Each moment goes so fast
Before my Christmas of today
Becomes my Christmas past.
-- Margaret Smelser

Christmas 1999

What does Christmas mean to me --
A tattered silver painted tree
Its branches held one bright red ball
A tarnished tinsel, that was all.
We filled it full of paper chains
Old decorations, childish things.
On Christmas morn, a package there,
From Grandma, aunts, to show their care.
Yet memory brings a brighter time,
A huge green tree; our eyes ashine,
Found table set with dishes pink,
Two tiny chairs and still I think
Of love shown by the work of hands,
Our Mom and Dad how they had planned
To make the day a special one,
For daughters two, and one dear son.

Another Christmas morning came,
My mother called, I heard my names.
Said Santa came, sometime that night,
I ran to the window, what a sight!
Out on the yard, bay filly small,
I named her Flicka, best gift of all!
A dream fulfilled, for she was mine,
I think of Flicka, Christmas-time.

The years passed by, so many things,
That brightly shine on memory's wings;
A tiny girl, a stone, cold hall --
Old Red Shield Store was not a mall!
Her skin was dark, her brown eyes shone,
A worn piano, poor of tone.
One finger picked out, Silent Night.
I listened raptly, "all is bright."
A young girl's faith, mine seemed not much
For true the spirit in her touch.

Again the dawn of Christmas Day
Six ones, our own, so happy, they,
With modest gifts picked out with care,
We hadn't much, but love tos hare.

How life has changed, we're older far,
I still look up to see the star.
We've felt the losses, seen the gains,
Have known the hurts, endured the pains.
Been blessed with joy beyond compare
From loving family, friends who care.

Without the babe in manger rude
Who came to earth, in stable crude
He walked the earth, (unworthy me)
A cross awaited, Calvary.
He gave His life, great gift divine,
Lord Jesus, babe of Christmastime.
-- Margaret Smelser

A Christmas Song

About 2,000 years ago
Jesus left His Home on high
While angels sang His praises
Mary sang a lullaby.
Today we sing the Christmas Carols
To remind us that He came
Our hearts rejoice with gladness
As we lift up His sweet Name.
Jesus is the Christ of Christmas
The world will someday learn
To be our Savior He did come to earth
But as our Lord He will return
So use this time to lift your voice
And make the rafters ring
For the babe once born in Bethlehem
Is the coming King of Kings.
-- Jim Melrose

Commenting has been disabled for this item.