Christmas Poem by Michael Walker

No mistletoe is hung over our door,
Nor is there any ivy on our eaves,
Whilst in our hearth a fire burns no more,
Dormant for so many winters' eves.

There is not any snow upon the ground,
And all the chains of lights have disappeared.
The carolers are nowhere to be found,
Whilst Santa Claus seems to have lost his beard.

Yet there remains a flame within the dark!
The crimson candles in the chapels glow
Before the tabernacles, where they mark
The cradle of the King Whom Wise Men know.

Though we have not a house, nor gifts, nor tree,
Neither does Christ Who comes for you and me.