Kind and gentle, poor old Joseph
Trudged the streets around the town;
Could not find a room for shelter,
Nor a clean place to lie down.
Happy, smiling, worried father
Carves the turkey while he thinks
How he'll ever make the payments
Of the bills for gifts and drinks.

Humble virgin, young and tender,
Laboured to bring forth a boy;
Lying in a filthy stable
Gave the world God's gift of joy.
Mother hangs up shiny tinsel,
Chain-store baubles from a box;
On the tree a plastic dolly,
Underneath are sweets and chocs.

New-born infant in a manger
Lay upon the cattle's straw,
Born to find a life of hardship
And to live among the poor.
Children wake at six or sooner,
Eager little girls and boys,
Frenzied hands tear at the wrappings
Of the bright new games and toys.

                                 December 6th, 1978

Copyright � Sue Hazell.  All rights reserved. No part of this text may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.