No Last Minute Rush
This Christmas; all will be ready, we said,
No rush, nothing last minute, not late to bed,
Cards hand made, posted second class,
Money to Oxfam, a heart like Wenceslas.
There will be no rush!
Presents; a token gift, very small,
Amy’s dolly, Joe’s bouncy ball.
Wrapped in (last year’s) paper,
But none of that last minute caper.
There will be no rush!
The tree will be perfect, no need to lop,
Well watered, no needle drop.
Dug from the garden, roots intact,
Environmentally serene and green, in fact.
There should be no need to rush.
Food home made, all planned.
Nothing pre-packed or canned.
Cake and pudding made in October,
Brandy soaked, but preparations, sober.
There’s really is no need to rush.
I say this because I’ve seen Hell,
It’s Tesco’s Christmas spell.
Trolleys jostling down every aisle,
The queue to the checkout goes on for miles.
As they, - join in, the rush.
Happy Christmas! As you’re greeted,
By bored Jackie, in swivel chair seated.
Felt antlers, with lights a flashing,
Name badge with tinsel; and reindeer dashing.
That’s why I won’t rush.
You see we need the time; to savour,
This incredible Christmas flavour.
No: not the turkey, mince pies or cake,
But why Jesus? And the difference he makes.
That’s why – there - should be - no rush.
That’s why Christmas is not just for kids,
A time for reflection; that’s, what it bids.
Not mum cooking and dad snoring,
Or the cry of, ‘do we have to’, ‘there boring!’
THERE, IS, NO, NEED, TO, RUSH!
Let’s enjoy that sweet little baby,
Or just, (get drunk) forget it, and then maybe,
We won’t question what he did when he grew up.
The cross, the broken bread, the spilt cup.
So don’t get caught in the rush.
Because the stable’s not where the story ends,
His birth, his death, and then, alive again.
A tiny baby born to pay the price.
Born to die, for us; as a sacrifice.
That’s why there should be no rush -To leave the baby in the manger,
And he doesn’t want you, to be a stranger -
As He grows up, words so wise,
Heart full of love, and His Heavenly Father’s eyes.
He’s watching, He’s waiting for you now,
So try to avoid the Christmas row,
He holding out those still scarred hands,
It’s one of life’s, everlasting brands.
So don’t get caught up in the rush. |
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