I am delighted to make these holiday poems available to you as gifts from my heart to anyone willing to accept them. In that spirit, may each poem about the holidays bring a bit of added meaning to someone’s Christmas or Easter, Valentine’s Day or Independence Day. Writing them has already brought added meaning to mine. (Poems for nearly every holiday are listed here. You may also click specifically on Christmas Poems, Easter Poems, Patriotic Poems, and Thanksgiving Poems. (Please email a request for permission before using and include full copyright information on every copy. For internet use, a link back to this website is required.)
FINDING THE POEM YOU WANT: As you scroll through this section, simply read each snippet sample (usually the first four lines) to get a feel for the poem. When you find something you like, click “CONTINUE READING” to view the entire poem.
I do believe that long ago in the eternities,
I was a bosom friend to you and you a friend to me.
We shared a bond, an understanding that was quick and sure.
I wonder if we knew that it would deepen and endure.
Our great grandparents knew about the harvest:
the months of labor gathered in with care…
the gratitude for every hard-earned blessing…
the love for home and hearth…the need to share.
We gather now before thee, Lord, united by our humble hearts
and bow our heads in gratitude for every gift that thou imparts
How excellent is thy name in all the earth
I.
Christ, our glorious Elder Brother
Noble, perfect, free from sin
Firstborn Son of Heavenly Father
In all things like unto Him
We all have heard the story, it’s been told and then retold,
about the birth of Jesus Christ in Bethlehem of old.
Yet every Christmastide the tale bears telling once again,
as we reflect on that sweet babe, born to redeem all men.
Tonight I walk beneath a gentle sky
where stars are warm and whisper, “Peace, be still.”
The silence beckons softly, as the moon
shines clear and bright upon a distant hill.
Jerusalem, He entered like a King.
with shouts of acclamation, fronds of palm.
But these gave way to fear, and none were with Him.
To His stripes, loving hands applied no balm.
Just for a change I’d like to make
a change this very day–
I’d like to do the things that all
those mothering books say.