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12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

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by Sir Walter Scott (1808)-Christmas in the Olden Time -YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

OLDIE
Heap on more wood! — the wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We’ll keep our Christmas merry still.
Each age has deemed the new born year
The fittest time for festal cheer.

And well our Christian sires of old.

Loved when the year its course had rolled,
And brought blithe Christmas back again,
With all his hospitable train.
Domestic and religious rite
Gave honour to the holy night:
On Christmas eve the bells were rung;
On Christmas eve the mass was sung;
That only night, in all the year,
Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
The damsel donned her kirtle sheen;
The hail was dressed with holly green;
Forth to the wood did merry men go,
To gather in the mistletoe,
Then opened wide the baron’s hail
To vassal, tenant, serf, and all;
Power laid his rod of rule aside,
And ceremony doff’d his pride.
The heir, with roses in his shoes,
That night might village partner choose.
The lord, underogating, share
The vulgar game of “post and pair!”
All hailed with uncontroll’d delight
And general voice, the happy night
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of salvation down.
The fire with well dried logs supplied,
Went roaring up the chimney wide;
The huge hail table’s oaken face,
Scrubb’d till it shone, the day to grace,
Bore then upon: its massive board
No mark to part the squire and lord.
Then was brought in the lusty brawn,
By old, blue-coated serving-man;
Then the grim boar’s head frowned on high,
Crested with bays and rosemary.
Well can the green-garbed ranger tell,
How, when, and where, the monster fell;
What dogs before his death he tore,
And all the baiting of the boar.
The wassail round in good brown bowls,
Garnished with ribbon, blithely trowls.
There the huge sirloin reeked: hard by
Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie;
Nor failed old Scotland to produce
At such high tide her savoury goose.
Then came the merry masquers in,
And carols roar’d with blithesome din;
If unmelodious was the song,
It was a hearty note, and strong.
Who lists may in their mumming see
Traces of ancient mystery;
White shirts supplied the masquerade,
And smutted cheeks the visor made
But oh! what masquers, richly dight,
Can boast of bosoms half so light!
England was merry England when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
’Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale,
’Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft would cheer
A poor man’s heart through half the year.

by Sir Walter Scott

YOUR FAVOURITE POEM SENT IN BY YOU WHAT’S YOURS

“A SOLDIER’S CHRISTMAS POEM” – Promote Yourself

images6666666666666666666

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn’t quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
“What are you doing?” I asked without fear,
“Come in this moment, it’s freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!”

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire’s light
Then he sighed and he said “Its really all right,
I’m out here by choice. I’m here every night.” “It’s my duty to
stand at the front of the line,

That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I’m proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at ‘Pearl on a day in December,”
Then he sighed, “That’s a Christmas ‘Gram always remembers.”
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ‘Nam’,
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I’ve not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he’s sure got her smile.

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue… an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.”

“So go back inside,” he said, “harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I’ll be all right.”
“But isn’t there something I can do, at the least,
“Give you money,” I asked, “or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you’ve done,
For being away from your wife and your son.”
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
“Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we’re gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.”

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq

Author: LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN, 20th Naval Construction Regiment

MY YEAR – Promote Yourself

                                           winnnnnn

spring – summer – auterm – winter,              so many seasons life can be, it could turn into a mystery.                                              So many poems I have done, let’s go back to where it all began.                          Every subject big or small, I have wrote some thing about them all.                          So many things in one year, stand up and give a cheer.                                                  Patricia bourne wordpress 2014.                    ~                                                                  thank you

Christmas cards

 

Christmas cards

 

Christmas is here once again

Brings memories of the past

The times we were together

I am alone again alas

 

Dusting down the Christmas cards

Placing them for all to see

The house is now empty

Since you were taken away from me

 

I miss the way you smiled

I miss you being there

I miss the warmth of your embrace

As I talk to an empty chair

 

Christmas can be a lonely time

When a loved one passes on

The sense of loss is painful

When you realise they have gone

 

As I read those Christmas cards

I thank God for all the years

That we both shared together

Through happiness and tears

 

I am going to enjoy Christmas

And toast our life with Champaign

Because I know one day

We shall meet in heaven again

 

Malcolm G Bradshaw

A visit from st Nicholas – Your Favourite poem

st-nicholas-mag-1916

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not 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 snow
Gave 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 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 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 bow
And 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.”

Attributed to Clement Clark Moore 1823

Probably written by

Major Henry Livingston 1808

NO ROOM

noroom

 

No room at the inn, no room at the inn,

The innkeeper was most pleased to say,

For it meant at all his rooms had been let,

He was doing good business that day.

 

 

When Joseph heard the news he was worried,

He had travelled a long distance that day,

And his wife was heavily pregnant,

They urgently needed somewhere to stay.

 

 

“Are you’re sure there’s no room?” he enquired,

And the innkeeper said, “no I’m sorry to say,

But there’s a stable at the back of the inn,

And You are welcome th bed down in the hay”.

 

 

Some people think that the innkeeper was callous

In speaking to Joseph that way,

But at least he tried to help as best he could,

Which is more that most people do today.

 

 

No room for Jesus,  No room for Jesus,

Is the cry we hear so often today,

The innkeeper was not nearly so callous,

He did not turn Jesus away.

 

 

The tragedy of that first Christmas,

Is not that there was no room at the inn,

But since that time down the ages,

People are not prepared to let him come in.

 

 

If only more people could find room in their hearts,

To let the saviour of mankind come in,

Their lives would be happy, they’d feel more complete,

And would know the joy of forgiveness from sin.

By Ron Martin

Twenty first century Santa

Christmas Limericks

stnicholastopHollyHolly

Holly and Carols limerick

The hallway with holly is hung; 
The carols by choruses sung. 
The tree is alight 
To brighten the night 
As the church bells are joyfully rung!

Christmas Greetings limerick

This Christmas I’m writing to you 
Our friendship to warmly renew. 
May the season be glad, 
The best that you’ve had, 
And all of your best dreams come true.

Santa’s Sleigh limerick

We’re singing the song of the sleigh 
As Santa gets his underway. 
The bells are a-jingle, 
Our tummies a-tingle, 
SO SHOUT OUT FOR THIS XMAS DAY!

Fairy limerick

There was a young Xmas-time elf
Who greatly admired himself.
He climbed up the tree,
A fairy to see,
But fell down and left with a skelf!

Reindeer limerick

A reindeer of Santa’s grew ill
So the vet gave the patient a pill.
His ears went all droopy.
And then he went loopy.
So your present is over the hill!

Turkey limerick

A turkey was asked out to dine
So told all his friends, “I feel fine!
When the water grew hot
He went in the pot,
And asked for a cool glass of wine!

Mistletoe limerick

May all of your Xmas be very
Much more than the regular merry.
Though merry is good
There are times when you should
Find more ‘neath the mistletoe berry!

By William Clark

HollyHolly

Light – Promote Yourself

FLAME.3

Sister Eucharista-promote yourself

bread and wine

 

Killing Our Selves

children

Wake up to another morning in sunlight brilliance

look about a world of passion, beauty, resilience.

~

The news, what we read; our beautiful children too,

can we not forget the one hundred and thirty two,

~

kids, smiling faces with pure innocence abound,

they knew childlike pain, seeing upheaval all around,

~

their villages, their homeland, filled with a political strife,

suggested each one, each kind soul, compassion in life.

~

Yet, the saddest part of any mindless tragedy is the possibility,

the notion that what in future days held welcome opportunity

~

could be destroyed by the swift arm of pure evil mindset,

this hateful world must begin to leave us certainly upset,

~

Quell that apathy, and rise above our human monotony,

of believing the horrors are a globe apart, so far away.

~

In Pakistan, we stopped human life from exploring their dreams,

while across the bay in Cuba rhetoric said welcome to a regime,

~

In your home and ours, in everyone’s world the breathing slows,

in the elegance of natural cause, not striking down, insidious blows,

~

of torture … power is such a menacing tool so ill-met with malice,

we are all guilty of seeking ownership, claim of that sacred chalice.

_

Can we be a society, a nation, a planet of people perhaps that may cease,

to extinguish our hopes, our dreams, and wait, open our arms toward peace.

~

© Thom Amundsen 2014

http://thinkingoutloudagain.com

Walking on Water – Promote Yourself

Slated – Promote Yourself

kissb

 

“Go and tell no one”-promote yourself

  egel 

An Understanding – Promote Yourself

add
An understanding
A new perspective
Some pieces
In context
Swirling currents
Not soothed
Not controlled
But made use
Hydro electric
Emotionally charged
Energy explained
And put to good use

Not controlled
But guided
Made sense
Not puppet
…never was
No strings were attached
The letters make sense
And fall into place
A gap
Becomes whole…
Holy whole

A different slant on Advent

Cheryl Bhagwandin
http://www.cheryl62blog.wordpress.com

Twas the night before Christmas

snow_PS-0033

 

‘Twas the night before Christmas and in the White House,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a tax plan soon would be there.

The holiday treats were stale and bland,
After Mrs. Obama had sugar plums banned.

The president was sleeping – for the hour was late,
He was tired and groggy, like the Denver debate.

He dreamed of the year and his bruising campaign,
Romney was tougher, it seems, than McCain.

With the economy weak and the jobless rate high,
Mitt made his case as the best fix-it guy.

Republicans eyed victory – there was change in the air,
In Tampa, Clint Eastwood conversed with a chair.

Romney rose in the polls and enjoyed his ascent,
But, oh, how he stumbled with “47 percent.”

Challenges abound in this new second term,
A Susan Rice pick could be tough to confirm.

Obamacare won with John Roberts at the wheel,
But the birth control mandate remains under appeal.

There’s John Boehner, of course, and their partisan tiff,
That threatens to drive us straight over the cliff!

With a Cabinet shuffle and more slots to fill,
He listed off changes, but held doubts for the Hill:

“It’s goodbye to Hillary, Panetta, and Tim;
And David Petraeus – now who’ll follow him?”

Suddenly, on the South Lawn, there arose such a clatter,
Obama looked up to see what was the matter.

Then what did appear, to wondering eyes?
But a man of great stature — and considerable size.

His eyes – how they twinkled!  His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

Chubby and plump and his eyes a bit misty,
There stood New Jersey Governor Chris Christie.

He had come from the coast, badly battered by Sandy,
Seeking FEMA assistance and some holiday candy.

Christie praised POTUS for keeping Jersey afloat,
A far cry from his GOP convention keynote.

Riding high in the polls, Christie’s eyes held a gleam,
Was he thinking of running in 2016?

A White House bid comes at quite a high price,
So the president offered some political advice.

And I heard him exclaim, though it sounded absurd:
“Merry Christmas to all!  And don’t mess with Big Bird!”

The 2012 White House Press Basement Version
by Greg Clugston

*******

Love One Another

THE BIRTH OF CHRIST XXXXXXXXXXX

Give love and a smile;
It will take you and others that extra mile.
For what you give you will receive,
No better time to give, than Christmas eve.

Imagine what a world it would be,
If I loved you and you loved me.
If we multiplied this love to everyone we know;
It wouldn’t be long before it started to grow.

Jesus came into the world, to show us the way;
To love one another every day.
At Christmas time, we celebrate His birth,
So let’s try and remember why He came to this earth.

by Simon Icke

Soldiers’ Christmas

soliders christmas

Soldiers’ Christmas

Creeping through the silent night,
Things that move are things of fright,
Sleighbells never ringing now
Angels seldom singing, now
Nothing comes to make their season bright.(Chorus)
Ring the bells and praise the Lord
For our soldiers’ love outpoured,
Post their names upon your tree
As they fight to keep us free,
Remember … their gift forevermore.Helicopters – guns and tanks
Moving now in guarded ranks,
Not a bit of Christmas cheer
That must wait ’til Home next year,
Since their only present is your “Thanks.”(Chorus)
Ring the bells and praise the Lord
For our soldiers’ love outpoured,
Post their names upon your tree
As they fight to keep us free,
Remember … their gift forevermore.

Now with many flags unfurled
Boys and girls from ’round the world
Lift their voices – battle cry
Bound to win or bound to die
Brave young heroes all – to chaos hurled.

(Chorus)
Ring the bells and praise the Lord
For our soldiers’ love outpoured,
Post their names upon your tree
As they fight to keep us free,
Remember … their gift forevermore.

Here at home with Christmas cheer
In this fun time of the year,
Let’s pause a bit from what we’ve planned,
Singing songs – with praises … and
Send a loving hug to soldiers dear.

(Chorus)
Ring the bells and praise the Lord
For our soldiers’ love outpoured,
Post their names upon your tree
As they fight to keep us free,
Remember … their gift forevermore.

Christmas Poem

Our soldiers know exactly what it is like to be serving so far away from home and thinking about you on Christmas Day (and every other day). Your letters and care packages mean so very much to them. Many of them are in Iraq and Afghanistan where life is waiting for the next gun shot or explosion. Many others are in support postings elsewhere. I have a friend serving in a German hospital where her patients are wounded soldiers from the war zones. She has a deep need to know that you care about her. They all do!

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