A Christmas Meditation
The season to be jolly has come round
Too little space to let our joy resound
For it should be our strength throughout
Not come and go in one small snowy blur.
God’s gift of Jesus does not go
Like fragile flowers at the end of May
He is the Rose that blooms forever more,
From Sharon’s pastures to the farthest shore
Come celebrate by thanking Him today
We scarcely of ourselves can last a day
Without some sin infecting all our way.
For those too proud to yield their selfish
Where howls of horror rend the pitchy
And so I cast my lot and faith on Thee
My priceless Lord, whose blood transfuses me.
Gene Pinkney 12/23/03
© 2006, No portion may be copied without attribution