Haughty Sphinx, whose amber eyes
Hold the secrets of the skies,
As thou ripplest in thy grace,
Round the chairs and chimney-place,
Scorn on thy patrician face:
Rise not harsh, nor use thy claws
On the hand that gives applause—
Good-will only doth abide
In these lines at Christmastide!

Wake up, dear dreamer; the morning has come!
Weary student, the term is over; the holidays have begun!
Oh saint, the long Advent is over;  the season of feasting is here!
Fasting and waiting, purple drapings covered all the places
But look on this day, white and gold shine like the sun of a new day

Remember, oh Christian, that night in the town of David
When the Light of the World finally shone bright
When, for a brief and glorious moment, eternity flashed its beauty
Remember that night, dear parishioner, when hopelessness was banished
For the long-awaited Saviour had finally come!

This great season when we celebrate that God on High descended to Earth down low
That the Lord of Heaven became lowly man to make all things new
That He showed us a world which we only know from fairy stories
A world where rivers run with wine and trees bear fruit the color of gold
Remember the Lord that came to renew the life robbed from humanity

So celebrate, oh Christian, you who have been renewed
Remember your Holy Baptism in the Lord, you saint
Remember all that you have forgotten, and celebrate the Incarnation!
Tear away those drapings of darkness and the curtains of purple
The season of fasting has passed, and a feast is to be set upon our tables!
Celebrate these next twelve days and never relent!
Dress the world in gold and white, that she might remember He who has restored her

For behold, the Word has been made flesh!
Behold, He brings life to this dying world!
Behold, before our eyes, the Salvation prepared for the nations!
Behold the Incarnate Lord!

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

               Last Sunday after Pentecost

A calling-crow-cold sky ceilings the world,
Lowering the horizon to itself
All silvery and grey upon the fields
Of pale, exhausted, dry-corn-stalk summer

The earth is tired, the air is cold, the dawn
False-promises nothing but an early dusk
As calling-cold-crows crowd the world with noise,
Loud-gossiping from tree to ground to sky

Soon falling frosts and fields of ice will fold
Even those fell, foolish fowls into the depths
Of dark creek bottoms where dim ancient oaks
Hide darkling birds from wild blue northern winds

Crows squawk of Advent disapprovingly,
For Advent-autumn drifts to Christmastide
When all the good of the seasonal year
Then warms and charms the house, the hearth, the heart.

We readied ourselves for the coming of the promised king
We threw off the garments of peasants
And dressed ourselves in clothes of royalty
To impress the king that was coming
To work for the redemption of this god

When a mere child came from the womb of a peasant girl
We never recognized Him as the Lord Christ
For we expected one much different from ourselves
Not a peasant boy born in a barn
From a family of a carpenter

We waited for years upon years for the savior
Like a bride waits upon her groom
While He comes down the aisle to meet her
Redeeming the world as He passes in their midst
To find His bride and make her holy

Out of Jacob came a star
A star that has risen and shines bright in the night sky
Nations and kings come to this great light
For the wait has ended
And God has come to this place

Out of Israel has come a scepter
A ruler for all nations and people
Splendor has come by this peasant descended from the Throne
The Lord Almighty bringing light to this land in darkness
Fulfilling the prophecies for His people

A light is cast from high atop the city
A star leads the way for wise men to find the King 
God on High to bring light to a darkened world 
Like the bright north star brings light to a dark night 
For the Lord has come, and remaking of all things has begun

Kings from the east journeyed for months so see the promised boy
Escaping the wrath of a pagan king to see the child
Not a mere child, but the very Son of God
Who has come to deliver a people
And deliver an entire world

An old man recognized this child
Knowing Him to be the Christ
Then the man could depart in peace
Having seen our salvation
The light of the world

Now listen to this night
Full of angels singing in the sky
And kings bringing gifts to God Incarnate
Hear the new refrain
And never feel the same again

For God came to us in a manor like the rest of us
As a child like the rest of us
From His mother's womb like the rest of us
Born into a world of sin like the rest of us
Born into sinful flesh like the rest of us

Born to a ****** like no one else
Born by the very work of the Spirit of God like no one else
Born to redeem a world in darkness like no one else
Born for the life of the world
Born God on High in flesh like no one else

For God became man
And out of great love took on Hell
Yet always overflowing with joy
Taking on all burdens, all pains, all anxieties
And giving to us His joy, His love, and His peace

It is by this boy that we find our peace
Through His death and resurrection
Taking our sins and defeating them in death
Then defeating even death itself
And defeating Hell and it’s ravages

Then Hell passes
By Jesus Christ we have found good things
Being perfect, complete, lacking in nothing, overflowing with joy
As His glory becomes our glory, His joy becomes our joy
His perfection becomes our perfection, and His Father becomes our Father

Trials bear down and defeat us
But through the promised Savior
The trials mold us to who we have become
They make us joyful and perfect
Through the love of Lord Jesus

Through all rough things
The Messiah is no longer merely an idea
He is the bruised, beaten, murdered savior
Putting to death all old things
And resurrecting new things to life

Now standing upon the shores of a new country
A land far to the north of our own land
Jesus waits for us to come to the shores of this Far Country
Where His redeemed children will come
And live with Him for all time, and everything after

As all children were sleeping
I crept through the night
Nobody heard me
There was no one in sight

I snuck along quiet
To the reindeer den
The North Pole’s frigid air
Gave me a chill now and then

As I entered the cave
I beheld quite a sight
The big red man himself
Gearing up for his flight

My goal was quite simple
My mind was quite clear
Stopping this man was my focus
Christmas would not be this year

Why? You might ask…
What’s this day done to you?
I ask you the same
If only you knew

So I snuck up behind him
With all of my might
A swift bonk on the head
And he was out all right

When he finally came too
He was tied to a chair
He didn’t even struggle
He didn’t even care

“Oh,” Santa said,
“I suppose this is good
I could never keep up
With the lists like I should”

“Each year it gets longer
The list of kids’ wishes
And if I don’t keep the pace…
Well faith is scarce as it is”

Surprised by these facts
I paced back and forth
I must consider my options
Before the light of next morn

Now the time came
For me to explain
The reasons I traveled
To this northern domain

“Three or four years
Have passed since that day
That I vowed from then on
To make Santa pay”

“For on that bright day
I woke up very early
Expecting to open
Presents quite worthy”

“Of a man like me
And all I deserve
Boastful you say?
Not at all, I reserve
The right now to stop
This year’s Christmastide
Each child will face
The disgust as I did”

“For coal is no gift
To a man who is rich
And has all he wants
With the world as his niche”

Santa listened to me
He did not say a word
Till finally he spoke
And only this was heard

“You humans are the same
You think the world owes you much
I’ll tell you this now
We weren’t created for such”

“For I too am a man
Hired to keep the mass calm
Consumerism is the way
It spurs many on”

“There was once a time
When this day meant much more
Then the gifts that showed up
By the tree on the floor”

“Being together was king
Of this secular tradition
But that time is long gone
Replaced by pure ambition”

“Above all else
We remember the name
The brought peace on earth
And forgiveness through pain”

“This was the time
When he appeared in the earth
To go to the cross
And return us are worth”

“So I applaud you now
Though your motives aren’t true
Maybe what this world needs
Is a year bid adieu”

I listened intently
To the things he had said
And a lot of things then
Went on in my head

I wish I could say
That the world plus myself
Could survive a year
Without new things on our shelves

Even if that’s a dream
I will constantly remember
The things he had said
On that day in December

Last Sunday after Pentecost

A calling-crow-cold sky ceilings the world,
Lowering the horizon to itself
All silvery and grey upon the fields
Of pale, exhausted, dry-corn-stalk summer

The earth is tired, the air is cold, the dawn
False-promises nothing but an early dusk
As calling-cold-crows crowd the world with noise,
Loud-gossiping from tree to ground to sky

Soon falling frosts and fields of ice will fold
Even those fell, foolish fowls into the depths
Of dark creek bottoms where dim ancient oaks
Hide darkling birds from wild blue northern winds

Crows squawk of Advent disapprovingly,
For Advent-autumn drifts to Christmastide
When all the good of the seasonal year
Then warms and charms the house, the hearth, the heart.

The First Sunday of Advent

A calling-crow-cold sky ceilings the world,
Lowering the horizon to itself
All silvery and grey upon the fields
Of pale, exhausted, dry-corn-stalk summer

The earth is tired, the air is cold, the dawn
False-promises nothing but an early dusk
As calling-cold-crows crowd the world with noise,
Loud-gossiping from tree to ground to sky

Soon falling frosts and fields of ice will fold
Even those fell, foolish fowls into the depths
Of dark creek bottoms where dim ancient oaks
Hide darkling birds from wild blue northern winds

Crows squawk of Advent disapprovingly,
As Advent-autumn drifts to Christmastide
When all the good of the seasonal year
Then warms and charms the house, the hearth,  the heart.

In widowhood, Mom lived alone
in the house that was her pride.
Though a faded glory to others 'eyes
it still held her dreams inside.
Still, Mom was growing feeble
in terms of strength and mind.
Assisted living loomed ahead,
just past that Christmastide.
So all us children reconvened
to bide our home farewell.
We decked her halls with garlands,
Her doors with Christmas bells.
For years she'd had a tiny tree
placed on a table stand.
This Christmas saw a Douglas fir
which made her home look grand.
We gathered round the Christmas Tree
and raised our voice in song
After a cup (or two) of cheer
not a single note seemed wrong.
Evening came and that tree shone bright-
lights twinkling in the dim.
There were hugs and kisses all around
to Margaret, Clare and Jim.
That was our last Christmas in her home
The last that we would share.
In Memory it is evergreen-
so let me linger there.

In widowhood, Mom lived alone
in the house that was her pride.
Though a faded glory to others 'eyes
it still held her dreams inside.
Still, Mom was growing feeble
in terms of strength and mind.
Assisted living loomed ahead,
just past that Christmastide.
So all us children reconvened
to bide our home farewell.
We decked her halls with garlands,
Her doors with Christmas bells.
For years she'd had a tiny tree
placed on a table stand.
This Christmas saw a Douglas fir
which made her home look grand.
We gathered round the Christmas Tree
and raised our voice in song
After a cup (or two) of cheer
not a single note seemed wrong.
Evening came and that tree shone bright-
lights twinkling in the dim.
There were hugs and kisses all around
to all my next of kin..
That was our last Christmas in her home
The last that we would share.
In Memory it is evergreen-
so let me linger there.

6:56PM
Waterloo Bridge/Southbank
stone cold shells
with staircases of
helter skelter;
the thames is high
with christmastide
Lancaster Place
6:58PM

A calling-crow-cold sky ceilings the world,
Lowering the horizon to itself
All silvery and grey upon the fields
Of pale, exhausted, dry-corn-stalk summer

The earth is tired, the air is cold, the dawn
False-promises nothing but an early dusk
As calling-cold-crows crowd the world with noise,
Loud-gossiping from tree to ground to sky

Soon falling frosts and fields of ice will fold
Even those fell, foolish fowls into the depths
Of dark creek bottoms where dim ancient oaks
Hide darkling birds from wild blue northern winds

Crows squawk of Advent disapprovingly,
For Advent-autumn drifts to Christmastide
When all the good of the seasonal year
Then warms and charms the house, the hearth, the heart

NATURE’S "CHRISTMAS"

Along the length of river’s rush
the sudden booms of stones in floods
the softened mossy sides and broken trunks
all moistened by the rains of days in grey attire
the padded path now red with needles
rocks with maps and lichens
bilberries now gone,
unless a wizened one hangs on,
high up above the flow
the waterfall
where logs were gathered long ago
a strange incongruous work of art
hangs above the roar in blue and white
as autumn’s voice falls silent
on the wings of faded leaves
she dots her constellations all about
in yellow flecks that decorate the trees
not decked for Christmastide
and yet
this could be used
we nature’s solstice celebrate.

Margaret Ann Waddicor 26th October 2014.