He sits upon the cold, hard stone
Quite distanced and so much alone.
     He sees the Christmas lights shine out
     And crowds of shoppers all about.

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Some glance at him, then hurry by.

They do not hear his plaintive sigh.
     Their Christmas presents fill their thoughts:
     The things they have - those to be bought.

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Some well-wrapped children, happy faces 
And travellers passing by with cases.
     Fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,
     Unite once more for Christmas fun.

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The cold wind whips with cruel bite
Here where the Christmas lights blaze bright.
    He settles for the night ahead,
    The pavement as his Christmas bed.

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Far from this cheerless, wintry chill,
The Christian churches soon will fill
     And families, with Christmas joy,
     Think of the birth of one small boy.

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His family, too, needed to share
Some simple things from those who care.
    Through many years our world’s the same
    As that from which that small child came.

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Look closely at those on the street -
The ones we seldom wish to meet.
     Compared to most they may be few
     But that homeless person could be you!

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Copyright on all my poems

 

 

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