Mum C writes


Christmas is palpable

Intents are horrible

Many will use no Bible

They are waiting to kiss

Under a mistletoe for bliss

And will take no one’s diss


Gone are the days

When many stood at bays

To think of a blessed baby in tangled hays

Now there is the sexy dancing

Now there is the much drinking

Now, there are no candling


If Jesus watches these beings

I’m sure He’s questioning our beings

And is cursing His seeings

None to the poor fends

Each dressing to his ends

Needs are never given any bends


Now who cares about where the sheep sleep?

At the mention of the sheep

Many mouths open for tender meat in mouths deep

Hays are for the farm

And farmers who need to harm

The sheep to poverty overcome


A celebration of blessing

A celebration of giving

A celebration of loving


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