Two Christmas Poems

Christmas in Envelopes

Monks are at it again, quaffing, carousing;
And stage-coaches, cantering straight out of Merrie England,
In a flurry of whips and fetlocks, sacks and Santas.
Raphael has been roped in, and Botticelli;
Experts predict a vintage year for virgins.
From the theologically challenged, Richmond Bridge,
Giverny, a lugger by moonlight, doves. Ours
Costs less than these in money, more in time;
Like them, is hopelessly irrelevant,
But brings, like them, the essential message
Love.

What the donkey saw

No room in the inn, of course,
And not that much in the stable,
What with the shepherds, Magi, Mary,
Joseph, the heavenly host -
Not to mention the baby
Using our manger as a cot.
You couldn’t have squeezed another cherub in
For love nor money.
Still, in spite of the overcrowding,
I did my best to make them feel wanted.
I could see the baby and I
Would be going places together.

Christmas Poems by U A Fanthorpe