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Christmas Poem

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Well-known member
Feb 10, 2005
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Southern Manitoba
It was Christmas Eve,
By the warm yule log,
And Jeb was alone,
With his old hunting dog,

His good wife Mary,
Had passed away,
Just a year ago,
On Christmas day.

And Jeb was thinking ‘bout,
All of the years,
And all of the joys,
And all of the tears.

With children,
They had never been blessed,
Except for one son,
Who they’d laid to rest.

The years had been hard,
And the money was tight.
But he’d always been honest,
And done what was right.

Some years had been good,
And the crops had all grew,
But even in bad years,
Farming was all that he knew.

And things sometimes went wrong,
And sometimes he got mad,
But when Mary was there,
Things were never too bad.

And as he sat there that night,
With his bones old and aching,
He was thinking all about,
His wife’s Christmas baking.

And the warmth of her smile,
And the taste of her kiss,
And all of the other things,
He did miss.

And as he sat there that eve,
Staring into the flame,
He heard a sweet voice,
Calling his name.

And as he looked up,
On that cold, lonely, night.
There was his Mary,
All dressed in white.

Her beautiful smile,
On her beautiful face.
Wearing a gown that was covered,
In satin and lace.

Looking just as she had,
That year back in May,
When she’d been at the church,
For their wedding day.

As he rose to greet her,
On that winter’s eve.
All the aches and the pains,
And the cold seemed to leave.

And he got up and kissed her,
And held her real tight,
And they danced out of the dark,
And into the light.

The next day in town,
The story was told,
About old Jeb,
Found in the cabin, cold.

And how in his hand,
They found a white piece of lace,
And the look of contentment,
They saw on his face.


Well-known member
Feb 14, 2005
Reaction score
That is really a goodun, oh yea MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone, I decided to go out of my way to say that every chance I get to over ride this happy hoiday BS :evil:

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