Religious Christmas Poems - Page 2

Over in the corner, 'neath the Christmas tree's green,
Are the tiny wooden figures, our Nativity scene.
Each tells a story, each plays its part.
Each holds a special place here in my heart.

Down from the attic, unwrapped with great care,
It just isn't Christmas if they're not there.
They're faded and dented, their paint chipped away,
But the love they stand for is as fresh as today.

And as the years go by and our days grow few,
Outside we grow older, inside we grow new,
And the tiny wooden figures are a symbol of love,
Of the grace and the peace of our God above.

By the side there stands Joseph, keeping watch in the night
The smile on his face, a reflection of light
In the hay kneels sweet Mary, so gentle and mild
So willing to sacrifice, all for her child.

And as the years go by and our days grow few
Outside we grow older, inside we grow new,
And the tiny wooden figures are a symbol of love
Of the grace and the peace of our God above.

In the hay, Baby Jesus, His arms opened wide.
The same way He lived, the same way He died.
Now He stands up in Heaven, and He holds the door wide,
And He says, "Welcome children! Welcome inside!"

And as the years go by and our days grow few
Outside we grow older, inside we grow new,
And the tiny wooden figures are a symbol of love,
Of the grace and the peace of our God above.

Over in the corner, 'neath the Christmas tree's green,
Are the tiny wooden figures, our Nativity scene.
Each tells a story...each plays its part.
Each holds a special place....here in my heart