megustaleer Posted December 4, 2007 Report Share Posted December 4, 2007 One thing I miss from my job, now I am retired, is choosing the poems I would read as a part of a Christmas Anthology for the elderly residents. I always included my old favourites, and tried to find new ones (not that they always went down quite as well with the listeners). Currently, I am rather liking The Wicked Fairy At The Manger by U.A. Fanthorpe My gift for the child: No wife, kids, home; No money sense. Unemployable. Friends, yes. But the wrong sort – The workshy, women, wimps, Petty infringers of the law, persons With notifiable diseases, Poll tax collectors, tarts; The bottom rung. His end? I think we’ll make it Public, prolonged, painful. Right, said the baby. That was roughly What we had in mind. Share your favourite Christmas-themed poems with us. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
Heather Posted December 7, 2007 Report Share Posted December 7, 2007 Christmas Eve and twelve of the clock "Now they are all on their knees," An elder said as we sat in a flock By the embers in hearthside ease. We pictured the meek mild creatures where The dwelt in their strawy pen, Nor did it occur to one of us there To doubt they were kneeling then. So fair a fancy few would weave In these years! Yet, I feel, If someone said on Christmas Eve, "Come; see the oxen kneel In the lonely barton by yonder coomb Our childhood used to know," I would go with him in the gloom, Hoping it might be so. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
megustaleer Posted December 10, 2007 Author Report Share Posted December 10, 2007 I was feeling less than thrilled at the prospect of decorating the house for Christmas, until I heard this poem written, and read by Wendy Cope. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
lipstick_librarian Posted December 11, 2007 Report Share Posted December 11, 2007 I was feeling less than thrilled at the prospect of decorating the house for Christmas, until I heard this poem written, and read by Wendy Cope. I'm glad you 'linked' rather than 'copied' that poem, Meg. Wendy Cope was having a real rant about copyright and use of her poems in Saturday's Guardian! Quote Link to post Share on other sites
Heather Posted December 15, 2007 Report Share Posted December 15, 2007 Help! I wanted to quote 'Christmas Wise' by Benjamen Zephaniah. Do you think he would mind? I don't know how to do links. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
megustaleer Posted December 15, 2007 Author Report Share Posted December 15, 2007 It's OK to post a few lines, but if a piece of writing is still under copyright it shouldn't be quoted in its entirety. I have found Christmas Wise online, but as it is a foreign language site (Scandinavian) I can't tell if it is likely to have the requisite permission. The poem (in English) is on this page . Scroll down past the first three. Edit: That link seems to be out of date, try this one (scroll past Jingle Bell Rock ) 2nd edit: both links now seem to be out of date, so try this from You Tube - Quote Link to post Share on other sites
Heather Posted December 21, 2007 Report Share Posted December 21, 2007 Thanks, Megustaleer. Here are a few verses from one that's out of copyright: It was the Winter wilde, While the Heav'n-born-childe, All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; Nature in aw of him Had doff't her gawdy trim, With her great Master so to sympathize: It was no season then for her To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour. But peacefull was the night Wherin the Prince of light His raign of peace upon the earth began: The Windes with wonder whist, Smoothly the waters kist, Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean, Who now hath quite forgot to rave, While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmed wave. But see the Virgin blest, Hath laid her Babe to rest. Time is our tedious Song should here have ending, Heav'ns youngest teemed Star, Hath fixt her polisht Car, Her sleeping Lord with Handmaid Lamp attending: And all about the Courtly Stable, Bright-harnest Angels sit in order serviceable. Hymn on the Morning of Christ's Nativity, by John Milton. That last word is a typical Milton touch. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
megustaleer Posted December 17, 2009 Author Report Share Posted December 17, 2009 Another favourite by U.A. Fanthorpe: Cat In The Manger In the story, I'm not there. Ox and Ass, arranged in prayer: But me? Nowhere. Anti-cat evangelists How on earth could you have missed Such an obvious and able Occupant of any stable? Who excluded mouse and rat? The harmless necessary cat. Who snuggled in with the holy pair? Me. And my purr Matthew, Mark, and Luke and John, (Who got it wrong, Who left out the cat) Remember that, Wherever He went in this great affair I was there. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
anneliesscott Posted December 17, 2009 Report Share Posted December 17, 2009 Probably the best known Christmas poem of them all - I just love it: Christmas by Betjeman. The beginning is funny and lighthearted, and then it just swerves for the last three verses, and always brings a lump to my throat: And is it true? and is it true? The most tremendous tale of all, Seen in a stained-glass window's hue, A Baby in an ox's stall? The Maker of the stars and sea Become a Child on earth for me? And is it true? For if it is, No loving fingers tying strings Around those tissued fripperies, The sweet and silly Christmas things, Bath salts and inexpensive scent And hideous tie so kindly meant. No love that in a family dwells, No carolling in frosty air, Nor all the steeple-shaking bells Can with this single Truth compare - That God was Man in Palestine And lives to-day in Bread and Wine. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
anneliesscott Posted December 17, 2009 Report Share Posted December 17, 2009 And another favourite: Journey Of The Magi by T. S. Eliot 'A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a journey: The ways deep and the weather sharp, The very dead of winter.' And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory, Lying down in the melting snow. There were times we regretted The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces, And the silken girls bringing sherbet. Then the camel men cursing and grumbling And running away, and wanting their liquor and women, And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters, And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly And the villages dirty and charging high prices: A hard time we had of it. At the end we preferred to travel all night, Sleeping in snatches, With the voices singing in our ears, saying That this was all folly. Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley, Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation; With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness, And three trees on the low sky, And an old white horse galloped in away in the meadow. Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel, Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver, And feet kicking the empty wine-skins. But there was no imformation, and so we continued And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory. All this was a long time ago, I remember, And I would do it again, but set down This set down This: were we led all that way for Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly, We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, But had thought they were different; this Birth was Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death. We returned to our places, these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, With an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another death. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
megustaleer Posted December 18, 2009 Author Report Share Posted December 18, 2009 Yes, they are two of my perennial favourites, too. It's the juxtaposition of the lighter and darker elements in them that appeals. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
woofwoof Posted December 21, 2009 Report Share Posted December 21, 2009 The time draws near the birth of Christ; The moon is hid--the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. Four voices of four hamlets round, From far and near, on mead and moor, Swell out and fail, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound. Each voice four changes on the wind, That now dilate and now decrease, Peace and good-will, good-will and peace, Peace and good-will to all mankind. Rise, happy morn! rise, holy morn! Draw forth the cheerful day from night; O Father! touch the east, and light The light that shone when hope was born! Alfred Lord Tennyson Quote Link to post Share on other sites
anneliesscott Posted December 21, 2009 Report Share Posted December 21, 2009 Just found this one - think it's so warm and soothing. Mistletoe - Walter de la Mare Sitting under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), One last candle burning low, All the sleepy dancers gone, Just one candle burning on, Shadows lurking everywhere: Some one came, and kissed me there. Tired I was; my head would go Nodding under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), No footsteps came, no voice, but only, Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely, Stooped in the still and shadowy air Lips unseen - and kissed me there. Quote Link to post Share on other sites
srisathvika Posted September 5, 2015 Report Share Posted September 5, 2015 My favorite christmas poem, ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the houseNot a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;The children were nestled all snug in their beds,While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,I sprang from the 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 snowGave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,But a miniature 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, Comet! 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, 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 roofThe 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 pedler 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 bowAnd the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;He had a broad face and a little round belly,That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful 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, ere he drove out of sight,“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.” Quote Link to post Share on other sites
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