Gaze into the flickering flame
Of a homely hearth
Gaze through the world-creating frame
Of any window on the Earth.
Gaze in a grey or a hazel eye;
Gaze all night at the spangled sky;
But gaze at last, for a greater joy,
In the glow of a Christmas bauble.
This is the very mirror of mirth;
A light to proclaim
A winter's tale of a Virgin Birth
Making the world a fantastic game.
God is the giddiest thought of all,
Says the tinsel hanging on the wall
And the twinkling of that happy ball
The glow of a Christmas bauble.
The season that bears the Holy Name
Is sending forth
The tidings we were born to proclaim;
The infinite worth
Of the soul of man, of all God-made things,
And all that the Carol-singer sings
But the happiest hymn to the King of Kings
Is the glow of a Christmas bauble.
Nice poem Maolsheachlann. Are all these poems of yours from a few years ago, or do you still write?
ReplyDeleteI used to write poems very regularly-- all through my late teens and my twenties-- but now it's an occasional thing. Writing poetry is gruelling (unless you are writing free verse, which is as gruelling as eating popcorn in a bubble bath). I like this poem less for its actual intrinsic merit, more for the fact that it's a bundle of many of my favourite images and phrases. Glad you like it.
ReplyDelete"The very mirror of mirth. . .God is the giddiest thought of all. . .the happiest hymn to the King of kings. . ." That catches all the best things about Christmas most splendidly. --Molly
ReplyDeleteThanks Molly! Yes, I like the imagery of the poem, but the last stanza is phrased rather awkwardly, despite lots of jiggling about.
ReplyDelete