Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Readers' Poems

Newspaper article Evening Chronicle (Newcastle, England)

Readers' Poems

Article excerpt

MY FIRST CHRISTMAS IN HEAVEN I SEE the countless Christmas trees around the world below, With tiny lights like heaven's stars reflecting on the snow.

The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away the tear, For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear, But the sound of music can't compare with the Christmas CChoir up here, I have no words to tell you the joy their voices bring, For it is beyond description to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart, But I am not far away, we really aren't apart.

So be happy for me dear ones, you know I hold you dear, And be glad I'm spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I send you each a special gift from my heavenly home above, I send you each a memory of undying love.

After all, love is a gift more precious than gold.

It always was most important in the stories Jesus told.

Please love and keep each other, as my father said to do, For I can't count his blessing he has for each of you, Do have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear, Remember I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

Sent in by MRS ANN STRONACH DECEMBER SKY AND DREAMS WE talked about Fenwick's window And about the baby Jesus.

Then we talked about debt And reality TV.

It's a fact, we are soft As the morning snow, And three cheers for Primark. Out in the winter's night, Thinking about The Cockermouth floods And Christmas lights, It will soon be over This festive season And we will be changed, And another year older. Where have all the years gone? And all the dreams.

Why do we keep On going? It's in our genes To keep moving forward, To leave the past behind And look at the morning sky. KENNETH MOOD LINGO BINGO SCRAPING words off the chosen book, Lexicographers take a look, Inner child on the inner hook, Mix proverbs and clichs and start to cook.

Building an extension on an ego town, As the walls come tumbling down, Is your heart a verb or noun? Life for the serious inner clown. Dancing tongues start to jive, Speaking clearly takes a dive, Conversations stay alive, Sentenced to squirm and writhe. …

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