Thursday 24 December 2015

Christmas Eve













Christmas Eve

It was wet, and the streets were full of people
Drenched with rain. Above the church steeple
Soared up high, gargoyles looking down upon
The crowd, perhaps weeping at this Bablyon
Of commercial profit. Yet not all is here greed
Gifts are tokens of love, show heartfelt need
And there is excitement in the wrapping paper
Fun and frolics, beneath the mistletoe a kisser
Steals a kiss, and the children wait anticipating
With eagerness, a magic night now deepening
Now the streets are empty, and almost bare
Only the homeless remain, seek coin to spare
It is a time for the homeless, sleeping rough
That the angels may say to them alone, enough
Come to the warmth, the church bells ringing
Come and take shelter, and enjoy the singing
And so they go, perhaps drunk, and enter in
The vaulted shelter, where the story of the Inn
And no room, no place to lay down their head
Resonates the more for those who have no bed
They will seek the streets until the dawning day
Shelter in doorways and passageways to stay
Just like another far off family in distant land
This is another echo, another linking strand
While others eat, and enjoy their Christmas roast
These travellers awake to hunger pains the most
They look for soup, and bread, such simple fare
But enough for hunger, and to ward off despair
If God is born anew on every Christmas day
Would he be here amongst them, as his way?

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