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Entry tags:
eating candy out of old socks
Ah, stale cigarette smoke, catnip, and rank goat: the inimitable scents of Christmas.
Have some nativity poetry, reeking of 1950's domesticity and Sunday school:
The Watch
The air was still, the stars shined bright,
As shepherds watched their flocks that night.
The fires were low---- the herds asleep,
And quiet reigned o'er all the deep.
Then from the sky there came a sound,
And angels hovered all around.
"Be not afraid ", their leader said,
"We'll harm you not, but-- yet, instead
We bring you news of Peace and Love
Straight from heaven up above.
For on this night in yonder town
The Love of God has showered down.
In a manger-bed this wintry morn
The 'light of the Word'; The Christ is born."
(By Floyd Atlee Catlin, AKA Pop-pop, c. 1950's)
Have some nativity poetry, reeking of 1950's domesticity and Sunday school:
The Watch
The air was still, the stars shined bright,
As shepherds watched their flocks that night.
The fires were low---- the herds asleep,
And quiet reigned o'er all the deep.
Then from the sky there came a sound,
And angels hovered all around.
"Be not afraid ", their leader said,
"We'll harm you not, but-- yet, instead
We bring you news of Peace and Love
Straight from heaven up above.
For on this night in yonder town
The Love of God has showered down.
In a manger-bed this wintry morn
The 'light of the Word'; The Christ is born."
(By Floyd Atlee Catlin, AKA Pop-pop, c. 1950's)
no subject
/totally adores The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.