When Christmas comes it seems that we try harder to be nice
And give a little more without counting its sacrifice
We think of ways to cheer those who are down on life or love
And sing Joy to the World as if its message was enough
When Christmas comes our hearts are drawn to a kind, simpler way
As on the projector of thought, soft childhood scenes replay
And we, for just a little while, are young as fancy frees
In worlds of cookie-cutter stars and bells and Christmas trees
Christmas, it seems stirs in us something unlike other
things
Maybe it is the snow that falls like feathered angel-wings
Or kitchens warm with scents of gingerbread and cinnamon
Or visions of arms open wide to welcome home loved ones
Maybe it is the starlight
strung like midnight chandeliers
Or maybe it’s the charm of bygone days that time endears
Maybe it is the love in the glad tidings of great joy
That heaven lent to earth in a wee Christ-child baby boy
When Christmas comes we think of others more and less of
self
As everybody tries to be somebody’s Christmas elf
And for a little while the sorrows of this world are borne
Upon the hope and joy and peace of that first Christmas morn
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!