quatrains
In scenes on many Christmas cards,
in grandchildren's plays at church,
we revel at the gorgeous barnyards
without much thought or research.
Driving about to view Christmas 'lights, '
with new places each year to see
Adults marvel well at how bright
the power of electricity.
We ooh and ahh in precious tones;
we like our Christmases pristine.
How sweet, how cute, how overblown:
costumes unreal, animals clean.
Had we the fortune to have been there
we might have had different memories.
It's cold in here; it smells in here,
Hay sparks my allergies.
Light from lanterns or a candle,
most likely it came just from stars.
There was no music from Handel
no people watching from cars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem