There’s a crib that lives within our church
     Which comes out once a year.
Outside, the weather may be cold,
     But in Church there’s Christmas cheer.

​

The figures standing round the crib
    Are clothed in Eastern dress.
Their faces look down at this child
     Whose name I think you’ll guess.

​

Then, when the Christmas season’s past,
    They’re stored once more away,
But next year out they’ll come again
     On view on Christmas Day.

 

The church is full - packed to the brim!
    The sermon’s been well planned
And it’s time to sing a Christmas carol
     And everybody stands.

​

God really hopes, with all his heart,
    That the Christian message stays
Within the hearts of those who come
    To church on Christmas Day.

​

Unlike the crib that’s packed away
    To return again next year,
God’s messages should stay with us,
      Not simply disappear.

​

Copyright on all my poems

​

 

​
 

​