Poetry

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Snowflakes
By Hannah McClure

Snowflakes are falling,
On a cold winter day,
The cold wind is blowing,
And the sky is grey.

The evergreens and Christmas trees,
Are covered,
From head,
To toe;
With a white sparkling gown
Of glistening snow.

Children are laughing,
Their cheeks rosy red,
As the race down the hill,
On their bright, shiny sleds.

A cardinal is tweeting,
High atop a tree.
Its breast bright red,
As a plump holly berry.

A clanging is heard,
High atop a hill,
A ring and a ding,
Of a merry church bell.

A malodious song,
Rings out from the church,
Singing the miracle,
Of the Christ childs birth.

The snow is falling,
It starts to get dark.
The stars twinkle,
Over the white shining Earth.

You can almost hear,
The angels sing:
"Glory to the newborn King."

On a night,
Much like this,
A baby was born.
Lain in a manger,
Swathed in some clothes,
Happy and warm;
This was the night,
Baby Jesus was born.

Snowflakes are falling,
The night has stood still,
A bright star is shining,
High above a hill

Casting its light,
On everything it sees,
This simple star reminds us,
Of what Christmas really means.

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