Roy E. Lovelace
It's two weeks until Christmas
and all through the hills,
folks are decorating everything
with bobbles and frills.
Red bows on the porch post
yellow bows on the trees,
pine branches and foil icicles
blow gently in the breeze.
Every house has a Christmas tree
either cedar or a pine,
decorated with common things
around the house one would find.
Like little cotton balls stuck
on the tree here and there,
and bright colored paper chains
that are hung with much care.
Little acorns are painted
with lots of colors so bright,
while silver painted pine cones
reflect the candle light.
With a needle and thread
to string up some popcorn,
for no other purpose than
the tree to adorn.
And on the front door
a wreath made from holly,
with its bright green leaves
and red berries so jolly.
All these things are done
to bring a smile and good cheer,
cause each day that passes
brings Christmas day nearer.
Then the night before Christmas
the story will be told,
about the wise men and shepherds
in the days of old.
The wise men went on a journey
they knew would be far,
and to find what they sought
they had to follow a star.
After several days journey
they came to this town,
didn't see what they looked for
though they looked all around.
A commotion out back
near the livestock pens,
people were staying out there
there was no room in the inns.
And upon entering the barn
the wise men knew right away,
what they saw was the Christ Child
that was asleep in the hay.
Meanwhile there were shepherds
tending their sheep by night,
there came an angel among them
and it gave them a fright.
Then the angel spake unto them
to make their fears go away,
said fear not for unto you
is born a savior this day.
Then the shepherds rejoiced
while a host of angels did sing,
and all through the hills
the hallelujahs did ring.
Every year we tell the story
so we will bear it in mind,
there's a reason for this season
that we call Christmas time.
Though the season is commercialized
for all that it's worth,
this is still the anniversary
of our dear saviors birth.
Copyright © 1998 Roy Lovelace. All Rights Reserved.
