The Poinsettia
'Twas a dark wintry night,
And it started to snow,
Twasn't long before the ground,
Would be covered below.
A little red flower,
Had just started to sprout,
When the cold north wind started,
Blowing snow, all about.
High in the sky was a pretty white
dove.
With a wounded wing, it flew to the ground.
Landing close to the flower, that was a little red bud,
It stretched out it's wings and rest there it found.
It sheltered the flower till the sun's
early dawn,
Then the pretty white bird started to take flight.
The little red bud pleaded, " Please take me,
For I know where you're going, we can be there by night."
So he picked the little flower and
headed for the east,
And there in a manager they found the Prince of Peace.
The pure white dove hovered overhead,
Dropping the beautiful red flower at the foot of His bed.
Now the pretty white dove,
Is the Holy Spirit of Christmas,
And the beautiful red flower,
Is the prophesy come to pass.
Merry Christmas!
by LM Willson
OLD
LES IN TIME
Visit My Web Site
www.geocities.com/lmwillson
PAGE CREATED : PAM GALLO
MIDI : GOD'S CHOIR
