Garrett Westcott Poems

Before He was a Preacher
Before He was a Savior
Before He died upon the cross
Jesus was a carpenter
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A poet of the troubled soul
A life on who the devil took his toll
A happy bouncing bundle of joy
Who turned into an angry stepson boy
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Going to have a Christmas
A Christian Christmas will it be
A Christmas full of mystery
One for me, the Baby, and family
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The women trembled at the sight
Two holy angels dressed in white
I know who you seek, the Prince of Peace
He has risen, risen indeed
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No turkey dinner for Christmas tonight
Not a single present under an imaginary tree
If they just find water on their desperate flight
They would be more grateful this Christmas than you or me
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Joseph became a carpenter
And a righteous man as well
His Son was the Messiah
The only way to get free from hell
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A tiny little village
Not too far from Jerusalem
In a manger a Savior lies
O, little town of Bethlehem
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Christmastime, Christmastime
Such a gay affair
There is no season just the same
Amongst the days anywhere
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Holy Spirit, Christmas Spirit
Can They be the same?
The Christ Child was conceived
And Jesus is His name
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The night is drawing near
There is no time to shed another tear
We must live as sons of the King
I can hear the church bells ring
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