IN THE WEEK WHEN CHRISTMAS COMES
By Eleanor Farjeon
This is the week when Christmas comes,
Let every pudding burst with plums,
And every tree bear dolls and drums,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every hall have boughs of green,
With berries glowing in between,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every doorstep have a song
Sounding the dark street along,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every steeple ring a bell
With a joyful tale to tell,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every night put forth a star
To show us where the heavens are,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every pen enfold a lamb
Sleeping warm beside its dam,
In the week when Christmas comes.
This is the week when Christmas comes.
Let every pudding burst with plums,
And every tree bear dolls and drums,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every hall have boughs of green,
With berries glowing in between,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every doorstep have a song
Sounding the dark street along,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every steeple ring a bell
With a joyful tale to tell,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every night put forth a star
To show us where the heavens are,
In the week when Christmas comes.
Let every pen enfold a lamb
Sleeping warm beside its dam,
In the week when Christmas comes.
This is the week when Christmas comes.
********************
[little tree]                                             
little tree 
little silent Christmas tree 
you are so little 
you are more like a flower 
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away? 
see          i will comfort you 
because you smell so sweetly 
 
i will kiss your cool bark 
and hug you safe and tight 
just as your mother would, 
only don't be afraid 
 
look          the spangles 
that sleep all the year in a dark box 
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine, 
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads, 
put up your little arms
and i'll give them all to you to hold 
every finger shall have its ring 
and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy 
then when you're quite dressed
you'll stand in the window for everyone to see 
and how they'll stare! 
oh but you'll be very proud 
and my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree 
we'll dance and sing 
"Noel Noel" 
*************** 
Buffy Silverman has the Poetry Friday Roundup this week.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
