Here’s a great poem about Mary, the mother of Jesus.  Enjoy! -anita


A woman sings across the wild

A song of wonder sweet,

And everywhere her little Child

Follows her gliding feet.


He flutters like a petal white

Along the roadway’s rim;

When He is tired, at latter-light,

His mother carries Him.


Sometimes a littler silver star

Floats softly down the air,

Past mountains where the pure snows are,

And sits upon His hair.


Sometimes when darkness is unfurled,

Upon her breast He lies,

And all the dreams of all the world

Flock to His dreamy eyes.


Agnes Lee -1868

One thought on “THE CHRIST CHILD

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