Florescence And The Angel Poem by Bill Grace

The tree is up
The work is done
I wish I could say
It all was fun.

Beautiful toys on generous display
Drink with a friend of comrade structure
Winter solstice of the pagan year.

STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!
As Jesus came and trod upon earth's sod
Our hope that he was truly God
Then all this abounding kitch is not cool
We need to return to school
To learn lessons of an even more quiet sort.

Listen to the clock strike its hour
Pray for all its victims
This sheen of visiting pagan peace
Takes us from the child's much deeper truth.