Christmas Eve

Roses of Belfast
Brown-eyed Susan
Under a White Umbrella
Mexican Conquest
Expresso Dreams
Summer Rain
Christmas Eve
Morning After
Eternal Unity
Bitter Blossoms
Tender Mercies
Into the Darkness
Miss Maddy Jones
Could They?
The Temple Gate
Midnight Writer
Sioux-Blue Sky
Nine Years Old
Spring Sonnet
Same Time, Next Year


Sweet is the hour past midnight,
when angels gather and watch from above,
what happens in homes on Christmas Eve.
when children sleep, and all is very quiet.

Packages appear from cellar, attic and closets
with rolls of paper and ribbons for wrapping,
and mom smiles at dad, on his hands and knees,
reading assembly instructions written by Japanese.

Gifts are stacked beneath and around the Christmas tree,
and only one task remains before parents stop to share
a kiss beneath the mistletoe, and cup of Christmas tea.

Into each of the empty stockings hung from the mantle
they stuff sweets and nuts, oranges, pears and apples.
But the greatest gifts of all that night, or any other,
are the fruits of the Spirit; love, joy, patience and peace,
gentleness, goodness, and faith in abundance,

All these, together with meekness and temperance,
are gifts which cannot be bought, just accepted
and passed along, from loving parents to little ones,
who, in their turn will share them with children of their own.

Copyright 2001 Susan Donahue - all rights reserved