On The 6th Day Before Christmas Poem by Liam ó Comáin

On The 6th Day Before Christmas



Hailstones batter the front street
As the wind roars over the rooftops,
There's a thin white carpet in the
Garden revealed by neon city lights,
And my thoughts relate to sleep
As I survey the winter storm.

From the east there are flashes of light
And thunder rattles the hemisphere
In moments of darkness;
Beyond this all is quiet for the populace
In the main are asleep as the clock strikes
3 am.

What mystery lies in the elements?
What power! what threat!
The age old gods of human history
Overthrown and superseded
By the son of a Jewish maiden
At whose commands the elements obey.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success