Christmas Poems

I love poetry and rhyme and meter and prose, and mixing them up like nobody knows. I also love Christmas. Therefore, I like writing poems about Christmas on Christmas–clever, I know. That being said, this year I am going green and recycling some poems from years past. Here you go.

This one is from Christmas of ’07

“Your King Comes to You” (Zechariah 9:9)

On the first Christmas morning,
the tears of God were shed.
Watching with excitement,
His eyes were misty and red.
He saw a perfect baby–His own perfect Son,
and He knew that this baby would be the only One.

He watched that little baby with perfect baby breath…those little curls of hair…brown eyes closed in rest–
and He knew that through this baby, all nations would be blessed.

God watched the sleeping child and a tear rolled down His cheek–
the Savior of the world was his first born son.
The sins of all the people He would carry on His shoulders,
He would go down to the grave and victory would be won

listen to the angels’ song,
they tell of a great debut
today with power and humility,
your King comes to you.

I wrote this next on in December of ’08 after an old man at a flea market gave Violet a gift from his table.

…and that one-horse open sleigh

there’s a small-town smile,
a gift from a stranger
a bell jingle on the door handle,
and a baby in the manger.

maybe there’s no snow,
maybe there’s no presents,
maybe you’re working overtime
and debt is the season’s essence.

but bigger than the Christmas tree
in the center of the city,
and bigger still than the lump you feel
as you swallow back self-pity…

is the Hope that grows
like nobody knows
Because of the baby named
Jesus.

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Dear Emily,

Hey! It was so nice to see you in Target today. So, here’s the deal: 2010 is the year we finally get together. I know, I know, we see each other a couple of times a year at a store in passing and our conversations invariably end with something lame like this; “We should totally get together sometime!” “Yeah, that would be awesome!” You know, and I know, and you know that I know, and I know that you know–this doesn’t work. Let’s get our families together for real this year. Besides, Violet loves babies (so far).

As for the rest of you, let’s totally get together sometime, because–that would be awesome! No, seriously.

(unless i don’t know you…in which case, why are you reading my blog anyway? creepy.)

By the way, you know that tire place next to Costco that says “WE BEAT COSTCO”? They do. by alot. they beat les schwab too. I’m not sure if they serve popcorn, but with a 20% savings, I’ll go buy my own freaking popcorn.

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yes, i’m talented

Tonight, I was standing in the kitchen with Violet while I “amazed” her with my skill at throwing an orange up in the air and catching it. I got too carried away and threw it too far. It landed on the rim of a cup. The cup was full of water and sitting on the edge of the counter. It dumped all over Violet’s head. She ran out of the kitchen yelling, “Noooooooooo!!!”

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Milo and Otis

Milo and Otis is the quintessential talking animal movie. As such, it is also the ideal movie for little girls that love animals. Violet and I watched over half of it via clips on youtube, where you can watch the whole movie in segments. Say what you will about talking animals–it’s still my favorite childhood movie.

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Santa who?

I never really believed in Santa Claus. My parents never tried convincing me there was a fat old man that was going to try and scooch down my chimney to bring presents. There was that one christmas when I was probably five or six though…

We were celebrating christmas at my grandparents house with my twenty-something cousins, twelve aunts and uncles, the two boston terriers and one great-aunt. (No, my grandparents weren’t mormons–they were a medium-sized catholic family growing up in the fifties).

All at once, all the aunts and uncles sent the cousins upstairs because Santa was about to bring the christmas presents to the christmas tree downstairs. Santa Claus? In this very house? We sat on the couch choking back excited giggles while we listened to him down stairs. It. was. magical. We could hear everything–the bells jingling on the reindeer harness, the thump of the presents under the tree, and Santa himself shouting “Ho, Ho, Ho–Merry Christmas!”

As soon as it stopped all the other cousins ran to the window to see if they could see him leave. Apparently we were supposed to be looking for something called a rudolph with a bright red nose. From the top of magnolia hill in Seattle, we had a great view of the city and sure enough my cousins soon started yelling.

“I see Rudolph!”

“Really? Where?”

“I see him too!”

“Me too!–wait, thats just a car.”

“No, wait! There he is!…no, another car.”

That’s right. They all saw Rudolph’s nose while all I saw were red brake lights.

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oh brother!

Violet is tentatively getting a brother in May, which means that playing house will be a lot more fun.

When you’re a little girl playing house with a bunch of other little girls; one of you inevitably has to play the dad–which, let’s face it is the most boring role in playing house. It’s like getting the short straw. However, when you have a brother–problem solved! They don’t even have to participate in the game to be included, which means that no¬† little girl has to waste a perfectly good afternoon of playing house to be the dad.

AWESOME!

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