header image 2  
Poetry from within
   

CHRISTINGLE




The snow began to settle

On pavement road and hill

Making busy townships

Soon quiet and ghostly still



Nothing seemed to move now

No dog or darting bird

Then bells inside the church

Demanded to be heard



On such a night so crisp

Which one of us would leave

The comfort of our fireside

For church on Christmas Eve?



Slowly doors were opened

And folk trudged through the snow

Heading for the church and

Its flickering candles glow



In cold pews people wait

To celebrate Christingle

They watch their children’s faces

As in the aisles they mingle



A simple ceremony

That leaves you warm inside

The snow is soon forgotten

On this merry Christmas-tide

Don Holmes