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The King Of Christmas = By Most Published Poet
THE KING OF CHRISTMAS
The Son of God came down to Earth
To be our Lord by divine birth.
Born to a virgin in a stable He lie
Destine to lead, teach, suffer and die.
Satan transformed from laughter to rage
When Christ arrived to destroy man’s cage.
A never-ending chance to redeem our soul
A new opportunity to achieve God’s goal.
Evil doers hate the birth of God’s child
They love what is immoral, wicked and wild.
Degrading Christmas wherever they can
Jealous of the joy and rapture of man.
Hallelujah Jesus the King of Christmas night
With a star for His crown bathed in holy light.
Christ is our savior who leads by trust and love
Delivering us from Satan to the grace of God above.
NIGHT OF NIGHTS
In the tiny town of Bethlehem
Born in a stable, an infant lie.
While he slept his first dreamless night
A whole universe of stars passed by.
When Jesus Christ our Savior was born
Most of the angels began to sing
Of peace, and good will to all mankind
And hallelujah to Earth's new king.
There were those angels, who did not sing
For they had passed through the devil's gate.
They knew this young lad belonged to God
And for them salvation was too late.
So let's rejoice, and sing with great cheer
That night when Jesus slept without fear.
For our Lord's birthday comes once a year
On that night of nights we hold so dear.
CHRISTMAS
Husbands with ladders hang lights on their home
As all who have no one feel sad and alone.
The churches are full of the faithful that sing
For the birth of our Lord, is a spiritual thing.
The sound of Christmas sweetly fills the air
While frantic shoppers hustle from here to there.
The windows of storefronts at this time of year
Reflect all their wonders as Christmas draws near.
Little ones stand looking with their nose pressed to glass
As model trains on display come speeding past.
The path to Santa is lined with girls and boys
With a list in their heart of their favorite toys.
The stores shelves are crammed with dolls that crawl or walk
Games, cars, trucks, planes and stuffed toys that sing or talk.
The miracle of Christmas comes once a year
When all that we love seems more precious and dear.
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By Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web
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