hile cradled in His Mother's arms,
With lowly sounds from creatures near,
And father Joseph watching humbly
In a cave, with mild revere,
The infant Jesus - from a manger -
Rests with shepherds watching nigh,
And smiles, slightly, to the sounds
Of angels singing praise, nearby.
He's lulled to sleep with lullabies
Of sweet and gentle harmony,
As angels from the star above
Exalt the Child with melodies.
A bow's drawn smoothly o'er the strings
Of a violin, to start the songs;
And gentle fingers strum across
A harp, to lead the sound along.
A tiny organ's blended in,
And holds the notes in steady tone,
While trumpets help declare the joy -
In tender hands, they're softly blown.
A flute perfects the mingling sounds,
With gentle lips, its play is pure.
The orchestra is now complete,
And sings its praise with low allure.
Through early light, the angels croon;
Their lovely voices carry, mild.
The shepherds, with their sheep, lay still
On matted hay, about the Child.
The Holy Family rests with peace,
While Mary ever gently sways
In rhythm with the soothing sounds
Throughout the dawn of Christmas Day.
Morning breaks, and Jesus wakens.
Smiling to the angels, pleasant,
He thanks them for their gift of song,
The first, endearing, Christmas present.
Copyright 2002