Thick snow covered the mountain tops and the dangerous calendar is going to be finished very soon,
But a new shinning one comes with the same old nagging worries.
I hear the hymns from a faraway church
And I think of my old thatched village church and the skinny bearded father who wanders in my blood-soaked native land.
Oh! My Lord Jesus of Nazareth,
If we could have the Christmas at all to our miserable lives?
* Dedication to Sandra, Jerry, Alison, Denis, Dave, Max, George and the rest of my fellow poet friends in the site.
Merry Christmas and a prosperous new year to all.
I am deeply touched. Thank you for numbering me among your friends. Wishing you Christmas, Nimal, the kind that has its genesis in the heart and mind. Memorable work, as always. Warmest regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your Christmas poem is so sad and yet, inspiring too. I have a good feeling about 2008. Let's hope I'm right. Your poems have such depth and originality. Thanks so much for the sweet dedication to this one. love, Allie xxxx