SCFI
25December
25th December, 2022

Christmas Poems

Here is a cute and warm collection of Christmas Poems for those a getting a little sentimental on the joyous occasion! These selected Christmas Poetry include poems by popular and not so popular authors. The idea behind the selection of these poems was to make you realize the beauty of Christmas festival and its real meaning. Share these free Christmas Day Poems with loved ones and have a very Merry Christmas.


In case you too have composed a beautiful Christmas poem and wish to share it with the world, here is a warm invitation from Christmas-Day.Org. Send in your poem to us, if it gets selected your poem will be published on this page along with your name!!



List of Short Poems on Christmas


Carol Of The Birds
Birth of Jesus
Christmas Bells
Christmas in India
'Twas the Night Before Christmas
Christmas Is a Time for Love and Fun
I'm Your Christmas Tree, All Brightly Lit
The Twelve Days of Christmas
That Midnight Hour
The Gift Of God
Bethlehem And Calvary

Make it SnowMake it Snow !
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock
"Now they are all on their knees,"
An elder said as we sat in a flock
By the embers in hearthside ease..!

We pictured the meek mild creatures where
They dwelt in their strawy pen,
Nor did it occur to one of us there
To doubt they were kneeling then.

So fair a fancy few would weave
In these years! Yet, I feel,
If someone said on Christmas Eve,
"Come; see the oxen kneel,

"In the lonely barton by yonder coomb
Our childhood used to know,"
I should go with him in the gloom,
Hoping it might be so

christmas poemsCarol Of The Birds
Feet that could be clawed but are not...
Arms that might have flown but did not...
No one said 'Let there be angels!' but the birds

Whose choirs fling alleluias over the sea,
Herring gulls, black backs caroling raucously
While cormorants dry their wings on a rocky stable.

Plovers that stoop to sanctify the land
And scoop small, Roundy mangers in the sand,
Swaddle a savior each in a speckled shell.

A chaffinchy fife unreeling in the marsh
Accompanies the tune a solo thrush
Half sings, half talks in riffs of wordless words,

As hymns flare up from tiny muscled throats,
Robins and hidden wrens whose shiny notes
Tinsel the precincts of the winter sun.

What loftier organ than these pipes of beech,
Pillars resounding with the jackdaws' speech,
And poplars swayed with light like shaken bells?

Wings that could be hands, but are not...
Cries that might be pleas but cannot
Question or disinvent the stalker's gun,

Be your own hammer beam angels of the air
Before, in the maze of space, you disappear,
Stilled by our dazzling anthrocentric mills..!!


Birth of JesusBirth of Jesus
Man pauses but a moment
to honor a birth.
Yet, were he to stay longer,
were he to look deeper,
He could see Creation.

The birth would still be there,
An archetypal pattern
for the millions
who are always moving forward
On a transcendental journey of themselves.
Merry Christmas 2019
By: Aline



Christmas BellsChristmas Bells
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
'There is no peace on earth,' I said;
'For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!'

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
'God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!'
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Christmas in IndiaChristmas in India
DIM dawn behind the tamerisks-the sky is saffron-yellow-
As the women in the village grind the corn,
And the parrots seek the riverside, each calling to his fellow
That the Day, the staring Easter Day, is born.
Oh the white dust on the highway! Oh the stenches in the byway!
Oh the clammy fog that hovers over earth!
And at Home they're making merry 'neath the white and scarlet berry-
What part have India's exiles in their mirth?
Full day begind the tamarisks-the sky is blue and staring-
As the cattle crawl afield beneath the yoke,
And they bear One o'er the field-path, who is past all hope or caring,
To the ghat below the curling wreaths of smoke.
Call on Rama, going slowly, as ye bear a brother lowly-
Call on Rama-he may hear, perhaps, your voice!
With our hymn-books and our psalters we appeal to other altars,
And to-day we bid "good Christian men rejoice!"

High noon behind the tamarisks-the sun is hot above us-
As at Home the Christmas Day is breaking wan.
They will drink our healths at dinner-those who tell us how they love us,
And forget us till another year be gone!
Oh the toil that knows no breaking! Oh the Heimweh, ceaseless, aching!
Oh the black dividing Sea and alien Plain!
Youth was cheap-wherefore we sold it. Gold was good-we hoped to hold it,
And to-day we know the fulness of our gain.

Grey dusk behind the tamarisks-the parrots fly together-
As the sun is sinking slowly over Home;
And his last ray seems to mock us shackled in a lifelong tether.
That drags us back how'er so far we roam.
Hard her service, poor her payment-she in ancient, tattered raiment-
India, she the grim Stepmother of our kind.
If a year of life be lent her, if her temple's shrine we enter,
The door is shut-we may not look behind.

Black night behind the tamarisks-the owls begin their chorus -
As the conches from the temple scream and bray.
With the fruitless years behind us, and the hopeless years before us,
Let us honour, O my brother, Christmas Day!
Call a truce, then, to our labors-let us feast with friends and neighbors,
And be merry as the custom of our caste;
For if "faint and forced the laughter," and if sadness follow after,
We are richer by one mocking Christmas past.
by Rudyard Kipling

night-before-christmas'Twas the Night Before Christmas
(or A Visit from St. Nicholas)
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

"Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
by Clement Clarke Moore


Christmas Is a Time for Love and Fun
Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to reshape souls and roots and skies,
A time to give your heart to everyone

Freely, like a rich and lavish sun,
Like a burning star to those whose lonely sighs
Show need of such a time for love and fun.

For children first, whose pain is never done,
Whose bright white fire of anguish never dies,
It's time to give your heart to every one,

That not one angel fall, to hatred won
For lack of ears to listen to her cries,
Or arms to carry him towards love and fun,

Or friends to care what happens on the run
To adult life, where joy or sadness lies.
It's time to give your heart to everyone,

For God loves all, and turns His back on none,
Good or twisted, ignorant or wise.
Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to give your heart to everyone.



I'm Your Christmas Tree, All Brightly Lit
I'm your Christmas tree, all brightly lit,
Hung with angels, colored balls, and elves.
Underneath my boughs your presents sit,
If you've behaved yourselves.

Why must we wait till early Christmas morn
To open up our brand-new games and toys?
Why gifts for us the day that Christ was born
If we're good girls and boys?

Now listen to your Christmas tree: I'm wise
In all the ways of faith that you must know.
I'm here because of what I symbolize:
Green through ice and snow.

There is a world beyond what we can see
Where, by grace of God, we can receive
God's greatest gift: to live eternally,
If only we believe.

Eternal life is what God gave to you
In sending down His son to live on Earth.
This was His gift, so Santa brings gifts, too,
To celebrate Christ's birth.

The baby Jesus got gifts on this day
Because, like any child, He loved to play.
And so God wants to share this special joy
With every girl and boy.

Believe God loves you as your parents do,
And takes great joy in giving gifts to you.
Live well and love, and evergreen like me,
You'll live eternally.

The Twelve Days of Christmas
The first day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
A partridge in a pear tree

The second day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The third day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The fourth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The fifth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree

The sixth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree

The seventh day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Seven swans a-swimming
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree

The eighth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

On the ninth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Nine drummers drumming,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The tenth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Ten pipers piping,
Nine drummers drumming,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The eleventh day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Eleven ladies dancing,
Ten pipers piping,
Nine drummers drumming,
Eight maids a-milking
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

The twelfth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Twelve lords a-leaping,
Eleven ladies dancing,
Ten pipers piping,
Nine drummers drumming,
Eight maids a-milking,
Seven swans a-swimming,
Six geese a-laying,
Five gold rings,
Four colly birds,
Three French hens,
Two turtle doves, and
A partridge in a pear tree.

That Midnight Hour
The Virgin Mother kneels upon the floor
And holds her baby in her arm,
Her heart is gladder than her lips can say,
To keep her new born baby snug and warm,
A babe more sweet and fair and dear
Than any rose bud in the bright sunshine,
Whose little eyes look straight into her own,
O, blessed maid, God's son is also thine.

Twas holy midnight, when He came to earth:
As pours a sun ray through a limpid glass,
Not leaving any mark upon its face;
A drop of dew upon the fresh green grass,
A little star that fell upon her lap,
A cooing babe, that seeks her virgin breast.
The hopes of all the sin-cursed world
Upon this baby's eyelids rest.

And ever since the midnight hour is holy,
And millions of human hearts are stirred
To wonderment and love for Him who came,
To save the world, God's own incarnate Word.
He came in darkness, He who was The Light,
His godhead shone from clear blue baby eyes,
The curse of earth's first sin was lifted then,
That midnight hour reopened paradise.

The Gift Of God
There was seen a radiance
Glowing one night
Near the little maiden Mary
In blue and white.

"Lilies are not fairer,
"Roses more red,
Than the Child she sings to slumber,"
An angel said.

So the shepherds ventured
Through the white cold,
And their eyes beheld the Infant,
An hour old.

Long they gazed and wondered,
Awkward in awe,
At the paramount perfection
Within their straw.

"Diamonds are but trifles!
"Rubies no gem!"
Cried the hearts that slaved for pittance
Near Bethlehem.

So it was forever,
After the night
When the little maiden Mary
Wore blue and white.


Bethlehem And Calvary
Oh silent Bethlehem attend and see
How gently Mary tends her new-born King:
Mark with what reverence and ecstasy,
Her humble virgin heart with joy will sing.

See with what tenderness, she tucks within,
Those coverlets, His tiny Hands and Feet,
Oh, with what loving care she kisses Him,
And smoothes the pillow for His Head so sweet.

Oh silent Bethlehem, attend and see,
Mary's most precious task is now complete!

Oh silent Calvary, attend and see,

How sadly Mary watches Christ, her King,
Mark with what noble, patient sympathy,

Her anguished mother heart meets sorrow's ring.
Bravely she watches, her sweet face grows pale,

And suffers other hands to "tuck Him in,"
His Hands and Feet they "tuck" beneath the nails,

His kiss is gall; a token of man's sin.
Oh, silent Calvary, attend and see,
Man's most ignoble work is now complete!

Merry Christmas, Baby
The weather outside is cold
We'll sit by the fireplace
We'll cuddle and be cozy
and stare at each other's face.

Wait till we hear Christmas bells
and the night is filled with peace
Give each other a Christmas kiss
And we'll fill our peace increase.

It's a time of joy and love
in our hearts to be filled
On this very special night
our love will be sealed.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Ahead, Baby
By: Patrick U. Sunday
Powered by SCFI

Copyright © 2004- www.christmas-day.org. All Rights Reserved