26 Christmas Poems

How amazing it would be if it would be Christmas every day? This is the time of the year when people are happy, having fun, eating good food with the people they love. It surely is the best time of the year! We want to make your Christmas extra special by sharing with you some of the most beautiful Christmas poems written by famous and creative poets. We hope you share them with your loved ones this Christmas as well!

Christmas Poems

1. A Christmas Wish

by: Debra L. Brown

 

I wish I could go back to the past,

of Christmases long ago.

I wish I could see my loved ones

who have passed on long ago.

 

I’d love to be that child again

who sat on Santa’s knee.

Yes, all these memories that I have

decorating the tree.

   

I wish I could wake Christmas morn

to see Daddy baking ham.

And to see my mamma making her yummy

famous candy yams.

 

I wish I could go to Grandma’s house;

her cookies were the best.

The pies and cakes that she would bake,

she kept them in a chest.

 

Her house would smell like ginger,

with a hint of Balsam Pine.

She’d decorate the house with lights,

and it would surely shine.

 

All these Christmas memories,

it seems like yesteryear.

I’d love to go back to the past.

This is my Christmas prayer.

 

2. Merry Christmas Mom

by: Mary Butto

 

Published: October 2009

 

For all of the presents

You put under the tree,

For all of the times

You picked up after me.

 

For all of the times

That you tucked me in tight

And we stayed up to talk

Long into the night

 

For all of the days

I was feeling so down

And the times that you turned

To a smile my frown

 

For the cookies you baked

And the stockings you stuffed,

For the cuts that you healed

And the pillows you fluffed.

 

For the time that you took

Off the training wheels

For the nights that you made me

My favorite meals

 

For the years throughout

Elementary school

For knowing the right thing

Isn’t always what’s cool

 

For putting up with

Those preteen years

For making it through

All the laughs and the tears

 

For all of the days

That you loved me so much

Even during the times

That I made it so tough.

 

For all of the memories

We have already shared

For the future for which

We cannot be prepared

 

For being there for that one-year-old boy

Who sat in the house and sucked on his thumb

For working so hard at being his mom

And making that boy into the man I’ve become

Look back on all that we have been through

And look at me now mom, how far I have come

 

For all of the times I’ll never forget

Merry Christmas to you, Mom

Here’s to the memories

We haven’t had yet

 

Merry Christmas. 

 

Love, Nick

 

3. A Friend’s Greeting

by: Edgar Guest

 

I’d like to be the sort of friend

that you have been to me.

I’d like to be the help that you’ve been

always glad to be.

I’d like to mean as much to you

each minute of the day

As you have meant, old friend of mine,

to me along the way.

 

I’d like to do the big things

and the splendid things for you,

To brush the gray out of your skies

and leave them only blue.

I’d like to say the kindly things

that I so oft have heard,

And feel that I could rouse your soul

the way that mine you’ve stirred.

 

I’d like to give back the joy

that you have given me,

Yet that were wishing you a need

I hope will never be.

I’d like to make you feel

as rich as I, who travel on

Undaunted in the darkest hours

with you to lean upon.

 

I’m wishing at this Christmas time

that I could but repay

A portion of the gladness

that you’ve strewn along the way.

And could I have one wish this year,

this only would it be:

I’d like to be the sort of friend

that you have been to me.

Christmas Poems

5. At Christmas

by: Edgar Guest

 

A man is at his finest

towards the finish of the year.

He is almost what he should be

when the Christmas season is here.

Then he’s thinking more of others

than he’s thought the months before,

And the laughter of his children

is a joy worth toiling for.

He is less a selfish creature than

at any other time.

When the Christmas spirit rules him

he comes close to the sublime.

 

When it’s Christmas man is bigger

and is better in his part.

He is keener for the service

that is prompted by the heart.

All the petty thoughts and narrow

seem to vanish for awhile

And the true reward he’s seeking

is the glory of a smile.

Then for others he is toiling and

somehow it seems to me

That at Christmas he is almost

what God wanted him to be.

 

If I had to paint a picture of a man

I think I’d wait

Till he’d fought his selfish battles

and had put aside his hate.

I’d not catch him at his labors

when his thoughts are all of pelf,

On the long days and the dreary

when he’s striving for himself.

I’d not take him when he’s sneering,

when he’s scornful or depressed,

But I’d look for him at Christmas

when he’s shining at his best.

 

Man is ever in a struggle

and he’s oft misunderstood.

There are days the worst that’s in him

is the master of the good,

But at Christmas kindness rules him

and he puts himself aside

And his petty hates are vanquished

and his heart is opened wide.

Oh, I don’t know how to say it,

but somehow it seems to me

That at Christmas man is almost

what God sent him here to be.

 

5. The Littlest Christmas Tree

by: Amy Peterson

 

The littlest Christmas tree

lived in a meadow of green

among a family

of tall evergreens.

He learned how to whisper

the evergreen song

with the slightest of wind

that came gently along.

 

He watched as the birds

made a home out of twigs

and couldn’t wait till

he, too, was big.

For all of the trees

offered a home,

the maple, the pine, and the oak,

who’s so strong.

 

“I hate being little,”

the little tree said,

“I can’t even turn colors

like the maple turns red.

I can’t help the animals

like the mighty old oak.

He shelters them all

in his wide mighty cloak.”

 

The older tree said,

“Why, little tree, you don’t know?

The story of a mighty king

from the land with no snow?”

Little tree questioned,

“A land with no snow?”

“Yes!” said old tree,

“A very old story,

from so long ago.”

 

“A star appeared,

giving great light

over a manger

on long winter’s night.

A baby was born,

a king of all kings,

and with him comes love

over all things.”

 

“He lived in a country

all covered in sand,

and laid down his life

to save all of man.”

 

Little tree thought of the gift

given by him,

then the big tree said with the

happiest grin,

“We’re not just trees,

but a reminder of that day.

There’s a much bigger part

of a role that we play.”

 

“For on Christmas Eve,

my life I’ll lay down,

in exchange for a happier,

loving ground.

And as I stand dying,

they’ll adorn me in trim.

This all will be done

in memory of him.”

 

“Among a warm fire,

with family and friends,

in the sweet songs of Christmas,

I’ll find my great end.

Then ever so gently,

He’ll come down to see

and take me to heaven,

Jesus and me.”

 

“So you see, little tree,

we are not like the oak

who shelters all things

beneath his great cloak.

Nor are we like the maple

in fall,

whose colors leave many

standing in awe.”

 

“The gift that we give

is ourselves, limb for limb,

the greatest of honor,

in memory of him.”

 

The little tree bowed

his head down and cried

and thought of the king

who willingly died.

For what kind of gift

can anyone give

than to lay down your life

when you wanted to live?

 

A swelling of pride

came over the tree.

Can all of this happen

Because of just me?

Can I really bring honor?

By adorning a home?

By reminding mankind

that he’s never alone?

 

With this thought, little tree

began singing with glee.

Happy and proud

to be a true Christmas tree.

 

You can still hear them singing

even the smallest in height,

singing of Christmas

and that one holy night.

 

6. Christmas Carol

by: Sara Teasdale 

 

The kings they came from out the south,

All dressed in ermine fine.

They bore Him gold and chrysoprase,

And gifts of precious wine.

 

The shepherds came from out the north,

Their coats were brown and old.

They brought Him little new-born lambs.

They had not any gold.

 

The wise men came from out the east,

And they were wrapped in white.

The star that led them all the way

Did glorify the night.

 

The angels came from heaven high,

And they were clad with wings.

And lo, they brought a joyful song

The host of heaven sings.

 

The kings they knocked upon the door,

The wise men entered in,

The shepherds followed after them

To hear the song begin.

 

The angels sang through all the night

Until the rising sun,

But little Jesus fell asleep

Before the song was done.

Christmas Poems

7. The Three Kings

by: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

 

Three Kings came riding from far away,

Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar.

Three Wise Men out of the East were they,

And they travelled by night and they slept by day,

For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.

 

The star was so beautiful, large and clear,

That all the other stars of the sky

Became a white mist in the atmosphere,

And by this they knew that the coming was near

Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.

 

Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows,

Three caskets of gold with golden keys.

Their robes were of crimson silk with rows

Of bells and pomegranates and furbelows,

Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees.

 

And so the Three Kings rode into the West,

Through the dusk of the night, over hill and dell,

And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast,

And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest,

With the people they met at some wayside well.

 

“Of the child that is born,” said Baltasar,

“Good people, I pray you, tell us the news.

For we in the East have seen his star,

And have ridden fast, and have ridden far,

To find and worship the King of the Jews.”

 

And the people answered, “You ask in vain.

We know of no King but Herod the Great.”

They thought the Wise Men were men insane,

As they spurred their horses across the plain,

Like riders in haste, who cannot wait.

 

And when they came to Jerusalem,

Herod the Great, who had heard this thing,

Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them.

And said, “Go down unto Bethlehem,

And bring me tidings of this new king.”

 

So they rode away; and the star stood still,

The only one in the grey of morn.

Yes, it stopped—it stood still of its own free will,

Right over Bethlehem on the hill,

The city of David, where Christ was born.

 

And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard,

Through the silent street, till their horses turned

And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard.

But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred,

And only a light in the stable burned.

 

And cradled there in the scented hay,

In the air made sweet by the breath of kine,

The little child in the manger lay,

The child, that would be king one day

Of a kingdom not human, but divine.

 

His mother Mary of Nazareth

Sat watching beside his place of rest,

Watching the even flow of his breath,

For the joy of life and the terror of death

Were mingled together in her breast.

 

They laid their offerings at his feet:

The gold was their tribute to a King,

The frankincense, with its odor sweet,

Was for the Priest, the Paraclete,

The myrrh for the body’s burying.

 

And the mother wondered and bowed her head,

And sat as still as a statue of stone,

Her heart was troubled yet comforted,

Remembering what the Angel had said

Of an endless reign and of David’s throne.

 

Then the Kings rode out of the city gate,

With a clatter of hoofs in proud array;

But they went not back to Herod the Great,

For they knew his malice and feared his hate,

And returned to their homes by another way.

 

8. Christmas Trees

by: Robert Frost 

 

The city had withdrawn into itself

And left at last the country to the country.

When between whirls of snow not come to lie

And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove

A stranger to our yard, who looked the city,

Yet did in country fashion in that there

He sat and waited till he drew us out

A-buttoning coats to ask him who he was.

He proved to be the city come again

To look for something it had left behind

And could not do without and keep its Christmas.

He asked if I would sell my Christmas trees;

My woods—the young fir balsams like a place

Where houses all are churches and have spires.

I hadn’t thought of them as Christmas Trees.

I doubt if I was tempted for a moment

To sell them off their feet to go in cars

And leave the slope behind the house all bare,

Where the sun shines now no warmer than the moon.

I’d hate to have them know it if I was.

Yet more I’d hate to hold my trees except

As others hold theirs or refuse for them,

Beyond the time of profitable growth,

The trial by market everything must come to.

I dallied so much with the thought of selling.

Then whether from mistaken courtesy

And fear of seeming short of speech, or whether

From hope of hearing good of what was mine, I said,

“There aren’t enough to be worth while.”

“I could soon tell how many they would cut,

You let me look them over.”

 

“You could look.

But don’t expect I’m going to let you have them.”

Pasture they spring in, some in clumps too close

That lop each other of boughs, but not a few

Quite solitary and having equal boughs

All round and round. The latter he nodded “Yes” to,

Or paused to say beneath some lovelier one,

With a buyer’s moderation, “That would do.”

I thought so too, but wasn’t there to say so.

We climbed the pasture on the south, crossed over,

And came down on the north. He said, “A thousand.”

 

“A thousand Christmas trees at what apiece?”

 

He felt some need of softening that to me:

“A thousand trees would come to thirty dollars.”

 

Then I was certain I had never meant

To let him have them. Never show surprise.

But thirty dollars seemed so small beside

The extent of pasture I should strip, three cents

(For that was all they figured out apiece),

Three cents so small beside the dollar friends

I should be writing to within the hour

Would pay in cities for good trees like those,

Regular vestry-trees whole Sunday Schools

Could hang enough on to pick off enough.

A thousand Christmas trees I didn’t know I had!

Worth three cents more to give away than sell,

As may be shown by a simple calculation.

Too bad I couldn’t lay one in a letter.

I can’t help wishing I could send you one,

In wishing you herewith a Merry Christmas.

 

9. I Like to See Christmas

 

I like to see the stockings

I like to see the gifts

I like to see the bells

I like to see the tree

And I like to see Santa

Looking at me.

 

10. Peppermint Stick

 

I took a lick

Of a peppermint stick

And oh it tasted yummy.

 

It used to be

On the Christmas tree

But now it’s in my tummy.

Christmas Poems

11. A Christmas Angel

by: Denise Burke

 

Oh, I wish I was an angel on the tree

Oh, I wish I was an angel on the tree

I’d give every girl and boy

Lots of Christmas peace and joy

Oh, I wish I was an angel on the tree

 

12. Five Little Reindeer

 

Five little reindeer playing in the snow

The first one said, “Can you see my nose glow?”

The second one said, “Listen to me sing!”

The third one said, “I can hear the bells ring.”

The fourth one said, “Let’s eat the pie.”

The fifth one said, “I’m ready to fly.”

Then clomp went their hooves

And the snow fell white

As the five little reindeer flew out of sight.

 

13. Magic Reindeer Food

 

Be sure to take this magic food

and sprinkle it on the lawn.

 

On Christmas Eve, Santa’s reindeers

travel miles before the dawn.

 

The smell of oats and glitter

will guide them on their way.

 

And you’ll wake up to Santa’s gifts

on merry Christmas day.

 

14. I’m a Little Reindeer

 

I’m a little reindeer,

Ready to fly.

I’ll pull Santa’s sleigh

Up in the sky.

Christmas is here,

We can’t be late.

All the children

Just cannot wait!

 

15. Snowball

by: Shel Silverstein

 

I made myself a snowball,

As perfect as could be,

I thought I’d keep it as a pet,

And let it sleep with me.

I made it some pyjamas,

And a pillow for its head.

Then last night it ran away,

But first, it wet the bed.

 

16. Poem for Santa

 

Stockings are hung

Christmas carols are sung

 

Each child is in bed

Slumber stories are read

 

It’s that magical night

When reindeer take flight

 

In your sleigh you do sit

With toys a tight fit.

 

This key is for you

Dear Santa, it’s true

 

A long wait it’s been

We beg you come in.

Christmas Poems

17. A Chubby Snowman

 

A chubby little snowman

had a carrot nose.

Along came a bunny,

and what do you suppose?

 

That hungry little bunny,

looking for some lunch,

Grabbed that snowman’s nose,

Nibble, nibble, crunch!

 

18. Mom is Making Christmas

by: Vicky A. Luong

 

Cookies baking in the kitchen,

The smell floats through the air.

Mom is making Christmas

with her usual merry flair

 

The house she gaily decorated,

Each gift she stiched with love,

And we’ll gather around the Christmas tree

for an evening of old-fashioned fun

 

This evening she’ll sing a carol for us

With her angel’s voice.

Yes, Mom is making Christmas,

A true reason to rejoice.

 

19. Santa’s Watching

 

Christmas time is coming,

It’s time we must be good,

For Santa’s watching everyday,

And we forgot we should.

 

Clean our room and wash the car,

Help mom with every chore,

For presents we are after,

And a good one we must score.

 

No time to chat, no time to play,

There’s dishes to be done.

There will be time later,

For us to have some fun.

 

20. The Grinch 

by: Dr. Seuss

 

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,

Stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?

It came without ribbons. It came without tags.

It came without packages, boxes or bags.

And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore.

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before.

What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store?

What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?

Christmas Poems

21. What Do We Love About Christmas?

by: Joanna Fuchs

 

What do we love about Christmas.

Does our delight reside in things?

Or are the feelings in our hearts

The real gift Christmas brings.

 

It’s seeing those we love,

And sending Christmas cards, too,

Appreciating people who bring us joy

Special people just like you.

 

22. The Nicest Present

by: Joanna and Karl Fuchs

 

Under the tree the gifts enthrall,

But the nicest present of them all

Is filling our thoughts with those who care,

Wanting our Christmas joy to share.

 

To you, whom we’re often thinking of,

We send our holiday joy and love.

 

23. Christmas Joys

by: Joanna Fuchs

 

Evergreen boughs that fill our homes

With fragrant Christmas scents,

Hearts filled with the loving glow

That Christmas represents.

 

Christmas cookies, turkeys stuffed,

Festive holly berry,

Little faces bright with joy,

Loved ones being merry.

 

Parties, songs, beribboned gifts,

Silver bells that tinkle,

Christmas trees and ornaments,

Colorful lights that twinkle.

 

Relatives waiting with open arms

To smile and hug and kiss us.

These are some of the special joys

That come along with Christmas.

 

24. Recipe for Christmas All Year Long

by: Joanna Fuchs

 

Take a heap of child-like wonder

That opens up our eyes

To the unexpected gifts in life

Each day a sweet surprise.

 

Mix in fond appreciation

For the people whom we know.

Like festive Christmas candles,

Each one has a special glow.

 

Add some giggles and some laughter,

A dash of Christmas food,

Amazing how a piece of pie

Improves our attitude.

 

Stir it all with human kindness.

Wrap it up in love and peace,

Decorate with optimism, and

Our joy will never cease.

 

If we use this healthy recipe,

We know we will remember

To be in the Christmas spirit,

Even when it’s not December.

Christmas Poems

25. Christmas Magic

by: Joanna Fuchs

 

Are we too grownup to feel a thrill

As we light the Christmas tree?

Are we immune to cookies,

Christmas cards and Christmas glee?

 

Are we too adult to “Ooh” and “Aah”

At the Christmas candle’s glow?

Are we blasé about our gifts.

Do we shun the mistletoe?

 

Are we too mature for carols,

For merry or for jolly?

Do the decorations leave us cold,

The ornaments and holly?

 

Fat chance! We’ll never grow too old

To love the Christmas magic.

A year without a Christmas

Would be boring, even tragic.

 

So bring it on. The candy canes,

The feasting and good cheer.

O Christmas, lovely Christmas,

You’re the highlight of the year.

 

26. Christmas Tree Poem

by: Joanna Fuchs

 

Christmas tree, sparkling bright,

Filled with baubles, warmth and light,

Precious symbol of our affection

For Christmas time and its perfection,

Show each night your radiant glory

For “oohs” and “aahs” obligatory.

 

Christmas tree, don’t let us down.

Show something special at your crown,

An angel, star, or splendid piece

To make our holiday joy increase,

An icon, pure, ideal, complete,

For Christmas memories fond and sweet.

 

Glitter and glisten, gleam and glow,

Oh Christmas tree, we love you so.

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