Five days past the blessed birth
Magi follow our Savior’s star
The Holy Ghost, having planted
a Child in a virgin girl
In a humble inn, oxen and ass
look upon this amazing sight
A baby’s soft skin in a cradle of hay
wrapped in swaddling clothes
prepared for Him
A young lamb by its mother’s side
bleats its sound with angel’s cries
A mother holding her child to
breast, a father kneeling beside His crib
In fields shepherds abide, keeping
watch over their flock by night
Prophecy of old, that night fulfilled
Hope, light and joy have come into the world!
Donna's Poetry Blog 