Showing posts with label 'Jesus Dear'. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 'Jesus Dear'. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

A BLESSED AND MERRY CHRISTMAS

  Santos Nativity - Puerto Rico
Late 19th century - Unidentified artist,
     Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
Jesus Dear

One glorious night in stable cold
A Babe is born in days of old.
O Mother Mary, do you hear
The angels sing of Jesus Dear?

As Jesus Dear your arms embrace,
You see His face so full of grace.
Your overflowing love abounds,
Hearkening to the angels' sounds.

Your arms around Him keep Him warm.
You vow He'll never come to harm.
Yet in your heart there dwells a fear
Of hurt to come to Jesus Dear.

A shadow of a cross falls o'er
To pierce your loving heart well sore.
O Mother Mary, what distress
To mar the blessed happiness!

He'll grow in wisdom and in grace,
A Babe no more in form and face.
Sweet Mary, do I see a tear?
Weep not; He's yet your Jesus Dear.

(From Luke: 2)

June Butler  - 12-24-09
Quite by accident, I found the poem above that I wrote three years ago, which was not in the short list of my poetry on the sidebar.  I'd completely forgotten about it, and I'm a bit puzzled, because I rarely write in regular rhyme or meter.  So here's the bit of verse, for better or for worse.  When the muse visits, which is not often, I write.  Whether the effort is worthwhile, is not for me to say.

Below is one of my favorite folk singers, Kate Rusby, the lovely woman with the lovely voice, singing an English Christmas carol.


English folk singer and songwriter Kate Rusby singing traditional English Christmas song Sweet Bells (arr. Kate Rusby and Damien O'Kane; words by Nahum Tate, 1652 - 1715)

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Jesus Dear

One glorious night in stable cold
A babe is born in days of old.
O Mother Mary, do you hear
The angels sing of Jesus Dear?

As Jesus Dear your arms embrace,
You see His face so full of grace,
Your overflowing love abounds,
Heark'ning to the angels' sounds.

Your arms around Him keep Him warm.
You vow He'll never come to harm.
Yet in your heart there dwells a fear
Of hurt to come to Jesus Dear.

A shadow of a cross falls o'er
To pierce your loving heart well sore.
O Mother Mary, what distress
To mar the blessed happiness!

He'll grow in wisdom and in grace,
A Babe no more in form and face.
Sweet Mary, do I see a tear?
Weep not. He's yet your Jesus Dear.

From Luke: 1-3

June Butler (12-24-09)