A Christmas Poem

The Christmas Story

a poem by Michelle Widman

Joseph and Mary

Had all they could carry

Traveling to their home town.

They hadn’t said no

When the king said “Go!”

They agreed ‘cause he had the crown.

They couldn’t win

at the local inn;

It was already overflowing.

With a need for haste,

There was no time to waste.

Then Joseph heard cattle lowing.

They found a stable --

No telephones or cable --

All Mary needed was a bed.

Without a frown

They settled down,

“And just in time,” Mary said.

Because Mary knew

that their baby was due.

Mary knew what He’d do, too.

In a dream

she’d seen a gleam.

An angel had come

to visit her some.

He’d said,

“You’ll have a boy,

but don’t name him Roy.

Jesus He’ll be,

And perfect, unlike you and me.

He will suffer

In the end.

The laws of justice

The people will bend.”

Jesus was born

That very night.

Also that night,

Some shepherds had a fright.

But not for long,

‘Cause there was a song.

The angels came

To sing Jesus’ name.

The shepherds started to spread the news

IT’S THE COMING OF THE KING OF THE JEWS!

. . . . Then Herod the king blew a fuse!

Herod wanted to rule!

He was ready to duel.

He ordered, “Kill that Child!”

In a rage, he was wild!

Meanwhile, other kings --

They came from afar.

They brought precious things

They followed a Star.

Herod decided to become their “friend,”

Though he plotted Jesus’ end.

Of harm to the baby there was no mention.

He told no one of his intention.

He said, “Go find Jesus,

Lying in a manger,

And give Him your gifts.

There is no danger. . .

. . . But return with haste.

There’s no time to waste.

Inform me where the baby is hidden.

Now go and do as you were bidden.”

Then in a dream

The kings were told,

“Go give Jesus

The frankincense, myrrh, and gold . . .

. . . But you do not know

The King’s wicked plan.

He is a very evil man!

To King Herod

You have nothing to say.”

And those wise men did obey.

This little poem

Ends right here,

Though Jesus lived

For many a year.

In the end

He suffered and died.

Then the laws of death

Were defied.

But that is a story

For Easter-time.

Thus endeth

My little rhyme.