Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve

It was wet, and the streets were full of people

Drenched with rain. Above the church steeple

Soared up high, gargoyles looking down upon

The crowd, perhaps weeping at this Bablyon

Of commercial profit. Yet not all is here greed

Gifts are tokens of love, show heartfelt need

And there is excitement in the wrapping paper

Fun and frolics, beneath the mistletoe a kisser

Steals a kiss, and the children wait anticipating

With eagerness, a magic night now deepening

Now the streets are empty, and almost bare

Only the homeless remain, seek coin to spare

It is a time for the homeless, sleeping rough

That the angels may say to them alone, enough

Come to the warmth, the church bells ringing

Come and take shelter, and enjoy the singing

And so they go, perhaps drunk, and enter in

The vaulted shelter, where the story of the Inn

And no room, no place to lay down their head

Resonates the more for those who have no bed

They will seek the streets until the dawning day

Shelter in doorways and passageways to stay

Just like another far off family in distant land

This is another echo, another linking strand

While others eat, and enjoy their Christmas roast

These travellers awake to hunger pains the most

They look for soup, and bread, such simple fare

But enough for hunger, and to ward off despair

If God is born anew on every Christmas day

Would he be here amongst them, as his way?