Christian Doe
they found him, in a basket wove
of freshly whittled pine
on the stair steps of the orphans home
one late december night..
amidst the blow, and cold, and snow,
under a crescent moon-
swaddled in a red fleece cloak,
eyes sparkling,, lips a coo..
they brought him in, they coddled him
they rocked him by the fire
never knowing into their midst
was ‘born’,, retails own christ child….
by paisley. To read this poem in its original posting and see the photo that accompanied it please click here
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Thank you, Paisley, for taking part. I really appreciate the way you always support PWB.
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6 comments:
i love this site,, and i am the one that should be thanking you for the opportunity to share my work with a larger audience....
thank you paisley for sharing your lovely Christmas poem with all of us --- I have been to your site before - you have some beautiful poetry --
I really like the rhythm to this poem; it suits the rocking of the basket.
Nice to see your work here, too!
I found the word retails most intriguing. It created different layers in the poem. Interesting.
Wow. I love this. I loved the story in this poem. Good work.
-Nicole
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