Isn't it the strangest thing, That Santa is so shy? (hide face with hands) We can never, never catch him, (make fingers run) No matter how we try. It isn't any use to watch, (hold hand to eyes and look) Because my parents said, "Santa Claus will only come When children are in bed!" (shake finger)
The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across the night Has caught the streaks of winter rain In many a stained-glass window sheen From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.
The holly in the windy hedge And round the Manor House the yew Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge, The altar, font and arch and pew, So that the villagers can say 'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.
Provincial Public Houses blaze, Corporation tramcars clang, On lighted tenements I gaze, Where paper decorations hang, And bunting in the red Town Hall Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'.
And London shops on Christmas Eve Are strung with silver bells and flowers As hurrying clerks the City leave To pigeon-haunted classic towers, And marbled clouds go scudding by The many-steepled London sky.
And girls in slacks remember Dad, And oafish louts remember Mum, And sleepless children's hearts are glad. And Christmas-morning bells say 'Come!' Even to shining ones who dwell Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.
And is it true, This 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 today in Bread and Wine.
Here is the chimney (make fist, enclosing thumb inside fist) Here is the top. (place palm of other hand on top of fist) Open the lid, (remove top hand quickly) Out Santa will pop. (pop up thumb).
I have a list of people I know All written in a book And every year at Christmastime I go and take a look And that is when I realise That those names are a part Not of the book they're written in But of my very heart For each name stands for someone Who has crossed my path some time And in that meeting they've become A treasured friend of mine And once you've met some people The years can not erase The memory of a pleasant word Or a friendly face So when I send a Christmas card That is addressed to you It's because you're on that list Of folk I'm indebted to And you are one of many folk who In times past I've met And happen to be one of those I don't want to forget And whether I have known you for Many years or few In some way you have a part in Shaping things I do This, the spirit of Christmas, that Forever and ever endures May it leave its richest blessing In the hearts of you and yours.
Santa came and said to me, "Have you been good? Now let me see." He checked his list, then he frowned and groaned a deep depressing sound. But still he said, "Speak loud and clear and tell me what you want this year." I said, "I told you yesterday." He looked confused to my dismay. I said, "Remember, at the mall?" He cleared his throat and tried to stall. Then his face turned bright and red. "I can't remember," Santa said. "Well, what I want," I said to him
but I forgot. Now things look grim 'cause here it is half past December and what I want we can't remember!
We have been helping with the cake And licking out the pan, And wrapping up our packages As neatly as we can. And we have hung our stockings up Beside the open grate. And now there's nothing more to do Except to wait!
Always at this time of year, We share the same old Christmas cheer. But this year, my parents tried something new With an official seal from the Cordon Bleu. We skipped the usual dinner dance And my parents took us all to France.
This year, my father changed his name to Gerard. He wore a chef’s hat on our Christmas card. Our tree looked like the Eiffel Tower While we waited for the dinner hour. As the children drank their Shock-O-Lots, Adults sipped fine wine, like some big shots.
Joyeux Noel my mother said In a red beret as she made French bread. With all the cheeses, truffles, and pates, It looked like they had cooked for days. Foods I had never seen before Came from the local grocery store.
A croaking sound came from the kitchen. Don’t worry, said Gerard, they’ll taste like chicken. When he saw how I was confused He shook his head and looked amused. You’ll enjoy what we’re having here. But his assurance didn’t calm my fear.
Instead of chestnuts and mistletoe, Chef Gerard made escargot. Resting in their garlic shells, They’re known at home as garden snails. And there was a large pot they called ragout That I learned too late was rabbit stew.
As special as this Christmas went, It’s not like others had been spent. I missed my turkey and my ham, Gravy, stuffing, and candied yams. I don’t want frogs’ legs any more. I want Christmas like before.
Mom, dad, I wish you would take back your given names. Next year, let’s stay home and play the usual reindeer games. And also, I hope you both will put those hats away. At Christmas-time at least, I’d rather not parle Francais
"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." - Jo Geis, Christmas Long Ago
Said Santa Claus One winter’s night, ‘I really think it’s only right That gifts should have a little say ‘Bout where they’ll be on Christmas Day.’ So then and there He called the toys Intended for good girls and boys, And when they’d settled down to hear, He made his plan for them quite clear. These were his words: ‘Soon now,’ he said, ‘You’ll all be speeding off with me To being the Christmas joy and cheer To little ones both far and near. ‘Here’s my idea, It seems but fair That you should each one have a share In choosing homes where you will stay On and after Christmas Day. ‘Now the next weeks Before we go Over the miles of glistening snow Find out the tots that you like best And think much nicer than the rest.’ The toys called out ‘Hurrah! Hurrah!
A Riddle - On Snow James Parton From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin. No lady alive can show such a skin. I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather, But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together. Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear, Yet many poor creatures I help to insnare. Though so much of Heaven appears in my make, The foulest impressions I easily take. My parent and I produce one another, The mother the daughter, the daughter the mother.
A Shy Santa
ReplyDeleteOriginal Author Unknown
Isn't it the strangest thing,
That Santa is so shy?
(hide face with hands)
We can never, never catch him,
(make fingers run)
No matter how we try.
It isn't any use to watch,
(hold hand to eyes and look)
Because my parents said,
"Santa Claus will only come
When children are in bed!"
(shake finger)
Sleigh Bells
ReplyDeleteby Evaleen Stein
Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle!
Happy winter-time!
Baby's eyes a-twinkle,
Hear the sleigh-bells chime!
Each one rings a merry
Ting-a-ling-a-ling!
For a sleigh-bell fairy
Hides inside to sing.
See them quake and quiver,
Up and downward tossed,
Seems as if they shiver
In the nipping frost!
Shiver into laughter,
Jolly little elves!
Till we laugh thereafter,
Merry as themselves!
Christmas by John Betjeman
ReplyDeleteThe bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.
The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that the villagers can say
'The church looks nice' on Christmas Day.
Provincial Public Houses blaze,
Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze,
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'.
And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.
And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children's hearts are glad.
And Christmas-morning bells say 'Come!'
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.
And is it true,
This 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 today in Bread and Wine.
Santa's Chimney
ReplyDeleteA fingerplay
Author unknown
Here is the chimney
(make fist, enclosing thumb inside fist)
Here is the top.
(place palm of other hand on top of fist)
Open the lid,
(remove top hand quickly)
Out Santa will pop.
(pop up thumb).
We Wish You a Merry Christman
ReplyDeleteby unknown author
We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year!
Good tidings we bring
To you and your kin
Good tidings for Christmas
And a Happy New Year!
Jason Radel
ReplyDeleteThe Spirit of Christmas
Anon
I have a list of people I know
All written in a book
And every year at Christmastime
I go and take a look
And that is when I realise
That those names are a part
Not of the book they're written in
But of my very heart
For each name stands for someone
Who has crossed my path some time
And in that meeting they've become
A treasured friend of mine
And once you've met some people
The years can not erase
The memory of a pleasant word
Or a friendly face
So when I send a Christmas card
That is addressed to you
It's because you're on that list Of folk I'm indebted to
And you are one of many folk who
In times past I've met
And happen to be one of those
I don't want to forget
And whether I have known you for Many years or few
In some way you have a part in
Shaping things I do
This, the spirit of Christmas, that
Forever and ever endures
May it leave its richest blessing
In the hearts of you and yours.
Winter Sport
ReplyDeleteUnknown Author
Who showed the little ant the way
Her narrow hole to bore,
And spend the pleasant summer day
In laying up her store?
The sparrow builds her pretty nest
Of wool, and hay, and moss;
Who told her how to build it best,
And lay the twigs across?
Who taught the busy bee to fly
Among the sweetest flowers,
And lay his store of honey by,
To eat in winter hours?
'Twas God who showed them all the way,
And gave them all their skill;
He teaches children, if they pray,
To do his holy will.
When Santa Came To School
ReplyDeleteBy Robert Pottle
Santa came and said to me,
"Have you been good? Now let me see."
He checked his list, then he frowned
and groaned a deep depressing sound.
But still he said, "Speak loud and clear
and tell me what you want this year."
I said, "I told you yesterday."
He looked confused to my dismay.
I said, "Remember, at the mall?"
He cleared his throat and tried to stall.
Then his face turned bright and red.
"I can't remember," Santa said.
"Well, what I want," I said to him
but I forgot. Now things look grim
'cause here it is half past December
and what I want we can't remember!
Terra Mangan
ReplyDeleteWhat Do We Love About Christmas?
What do we love about Christmas;
Does our delight reside in things?
Or are the feelings in our hearts
The real gift that Christmas brings.
It’s seeing those we love,
And sending Christmas cards, too,
Appreciating people who bring us joy
Special people just like you.
By Joanna Fuchs
Day Before Christmas
ReplyDeleteMarchette Chute
We have been helping with the cake
And licking out the pan,
And wrapping up our packages
As neatly as we can.
And we have hung our stockings up
Beside the open grate.
And now there's nothing more to do
Except
to
wait!
What I Don't Want For Christmas
ReplyDeleteBy: Jim Beasley
Always at this time of year,
We share the same old Christmas cheer.
But this year, my parents tried something new
With an official seal from the Cordon Bleu.
We skipped the usual dinner dance
And my parents took us all to France.
This year, my father changed his name to Gerard.
He wore a chef’s hat on our Christmas card.
Our tree looked like the Eiffel Tower
While we waited for the dinner hour.
As the children drank their Shock-O-Lots,
Adults sipped fine wine, like some big shots.
Joyeux Noel my mother said
In a red beret as she made French bread.
With all the cheeses, truffles, and pates,
It looked like they had cooked for days.
Foods I had never seen before
Came from the local grocery store.
A croaking sound came from the kitchen.
Don’t worry, said Gerard, they’ll taste like chicken.
When he saw how I was confused
He shook his head and looked amused.
You’ll enjoy what we’re having here.
But his assurance didn’t calm my fear.
Instead of chestnuts and mistletoe,
Chef Gerard made escargot.
Resting in their garlic shells,
They’re known at home as garden snails.
And there was a large pot they called ragout
That I learned too late was rabbit stew.
As special as this Christmas went,
It’s not like others had been spent.
I missed my turkey and my ham,
Gravy, stuffing, and candied yams.
I don’t want frogs’ legs any more.
I want Christmas like before.
Mom, dad, I wish you would take back your given names.
Next year, let’s stay home and play the usual reindeer games.
And also, I hope you both will put those hats away.
At Christmas-time at least, I’d rather not parle Francais
"Frosty days and ice-still nights,
ReplyDeleteFir 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."
- Jo Geis, Christmas Long Ago
Christmas Joys
ReplyDeleteEvergreen boughs that fill our homes
With fragrant Christmas scents,
Hearts filled with the loving glow
That Christmas represents;
Christmas cookies, turkeys stuffed,
Festive holly berry,
Little faces bright with joy,
Loved ones being merry;
Parties, songs, beribboned gifts,
Silver bells that tinkle,
Christmas trees and ornaments,
Colorful lights that twinkle;
Relatives waiting with open arms
To smile and hug and kiss us;
These are some of the special joys
That come along with Christmas.
The Snowman
ReplyDeleteOne day we built a snowman,
We built him out of snow;
You should have seen how fine he was,
All white from top to toe.
We poured some water over him,
To freeze his legs and ears;
And when we went indoors to bed,
We thought he'd last for years.
But, in the night a warmer kind
Of wind began to blow;
And Jack Frost cried and ran away,
And with him went the snow.
When we went out next morning
To bid our friend "Good Day",
There wasn't any snowman there...
He'd melted right away!
SONG
ReplyDeleteby Eugene Field
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.
Santa's New Idea
ReplyDeleteAnon
Said Santa Claus
One winter’s night,
‘I really think it’s only right
That gifts should have a little say
‘Bout where they’ll be on Christmas Day.’
So then and there
He called the toys
Intended for good girls and boys,
And when they’d settled down to hear,
He made his plan for them quite clear.
These were his words:
‘Soon now,’ he said,
‘You’ll all be speeding off with me
To being the Christmas joy and cheer
To little ones both far and near.
‘Here’s my idea,
It seems but fair
That you should each one have a share
In choosing homes where you will stay
On and after Christmas Day.
‘Now the next weeks
Before we go
Over the miles of glistening snow
Find out the tots that you like best
And think much nicer than the rest.’
The toys called out
‘Hurrah! Hurrah!
A Riddle - On Snow
ReplyDeleteJames Parton
From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin.
No lady alive can show such a skin.
I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.
Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear,
Yet many poor creatures I help to insnare.
Though so much of Heaven appears in my make,
The foulest impressions I easily take.
My parent and I produce one another,
The mother the daughter, the daughter the mother.
Christmas is here Poem
ReplyDeleteA 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 are brown,
I'll not mind the cold, though my fingers it numbs,
For it brings the time nearer when Santa Claus comes.
Unknown
A Catastrophe
ReplyDeleteIf old Kriss Kringle should forget
To travel Christmas eve,
I tell you now, I think next day
The little folks would grieve.
There wouldn't be a single toy,
A single box or book,
And not a bit of candy in
Their stockings when they'd look
Because, you see, Kriss Kringle has
A "corner" on these things,
'Tis he, and he alone, who in
The night our presents brings.
Then let us all try to avert
This sad catastrophe,
And hope Kriss Kringle may at least
Remember you and me.
A Winter Dawn
ReplyDeleteby: Joan Adams Burchell
Banana-cream and apricot
arose in the eastern sky;
Softly blending with shaded-greys,
it quietly caught the eye.
Dawn is magic along the horizon
before the sun climbs aloft;
Winter mornings are specially-embellished
with colours more muted and soft.
Snowflakes mirror the pastel tones,
adding their touch for the day;
Beauty spilled from nature's palette
and meant to come our way.
December by John Updike
ReplyDeleteFirst snow! The flakes,
So few,so light,
Remake the world
In solid white.
All bundled up,
We feel as if
We were fat penguins,
Warm and stiff.
The toy-packed shops
Half split their sides,
And Mother brings home
Things she hides.
Old carols peal.
The dusk is dense.
There is a mood
Of sweet suspense.
The shepherds wait,
The kings, the tree—
All wait for something
Yet to be,
Some miracle.
And then it’s here,
Wrapped up in hope—
Another year!