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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson



Chicken, turkey, crisp roasted goose

Bowls of wobbly jelly

Mistletoe sprigs and chocolate mousse

Circus on the tele’


Colourful greetings in the post

Large parcels in a heap

Glasses raised for the festive toast

Excited kids can’t sleep


But what is Christmas all about?

Few people seem to know

Some think a time to fool about

As children in the snow


For some white icing on a cake

Stockings full of treats

Children skating on the lake

Snowmen in the streets


Others believe there’s nothing wrong

With wine charades and dancing

Singing and playing all day long

With bells and reindeer prancing


Twisted bunting, lights that blink

Rum, sweet cherry brandy

Grownups chatting lots to drink

Children scoffing candy


A time of rest a time for joy

However great or small

But who recalls the baby boy?

Born in a cattle stall?


The Saviour Lord God Jesus Christ?

This day in cold December

The Lamb! The Father sacrificed

It seems but few remember…. P.T.O.....Michael P. Johnson




A greater gift could no one give

Salvation in a child

Given of God than man may live

Pure and undefiled


No palace but a humble shed

No servants gathered round

No place to rest the infant’s head

But straw upon the ground


This world has need of changing fast

More wrong is done than right

Seldom thinking of Christmas passed

When God revealed The Light


To earth came forth Salvation’s Dawn

The eyes of man could see

Of flesh and bone God’s Son was born

Yet set the captive free


Emanuel! God’s Lamp on earth

He’d come but for this reason

The Lamb of God of virgin birth

Joy in every season


All people now on earth should pray

Should lift their voice and sing

For born to us on Christmas day

Was Christ, Lord God and King


To children more than playful toys

The living God to feel

What miracle for girls and boys

When Christ becomes us real


Heaven and earth will kneel one day

To Him they once ignored

Then every tongue is truly say

That Jesus Christ is Lord.....Michael P. Johnson

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Submitted: Saturday, December 24, 2016

Last Updated: Sunday, December 25, 2016

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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