Our Guiding Star
A sad young boy on Christmas Eve,
Kneels down by the well lit tree.
He looks down at the presents,
Wrapped up so perfectly.
In his hand's a picture,
That's cherished by the lad,
He looks at it with tearful eyes,
His picture of his Dad.
For Daddy's up in Heaven,
He went away to war,
He won't be here to share the joy,
The pain is very raw.
His Mother hears her young boys cries,
And sits down by his side,
I know, I miss him too she say's,
As she looks into his eyes.
Your Father was a brave man,
He'd want you, to be too,
He couldn't bear to see you sad,
For he thought the world of you.
He fought for Queen and Country,
It's time for him to rest,
In the beautiful garden of Angels,
He's up there with the best.
The little lad jumped to his feet,
His tears turned to a smile,
He placed the picture on the tree,
Then gazed at it a while.
I'll put him there, he proudly said,
He'll never be that far,
So he can share our Christmas Day,
He'll be our Guiding Star.
Jayne Davies's Other Poems
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