Richard Burke Poems

Each culture has a tale to tell,
Of how all came to be;
Of who created Earth and sky,
And air and land and sea;
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The Ghost of Christmas-Yet-To-Come
Stood by my bed last night,
His face so menacing and glum,
I recoiled at the sight.
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Joseph Has A Dream
An Angel came to Joseph in his dreams:
Arise, take flight, ‘fore Herod finds the child!
Slaughtered innocents, mothers' anguished screams,
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Jabez Stone was as unlucky as a man could be;
His corn grew no higher than his boney knee;
His potatoes no bigger than a single snap pea;
And his horse had foundered and barely could see.
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She wore a dress with Belgian lace,
And he a morning suit.
Exchanging vows of life-long love,
While gathered friends stood mute.
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It was "sochelnik, " Christmas Eve,
In the tiny Russian town;
Excited children laughed and squealed:
Grandfather Frost will soon be ‘round.
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T'was a boastful warrior's roar,
From Ireland's coast to Scotland's shore;
In Antrim you'll ney longer plunder,
Vowed Finn McCool to Benandonner.
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Its keel was laid in twenty-five,
It launched in twenty-eight;
Among those christening its bow,
Who could have guessed its fate,
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Pray listen while I share with you,
A case that once betide a Jew,
And teaches all to wary be,
Of answering too hastily,
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DAY ONE
I'm almost a whole day old now,
I arrived just yesterday,
If there were any 'days before, '
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