Home of: Prose, Poetry & Contests Prose-n-Poetry

Prose-n-Poetry.com

Email Us [e-mail]
Enter our Poetry Contest and Win a Cash Prize !
Welcome !

Please Sign In
MemberID

password
Save Cookie?  
Get lost password

Join Us

Points Reference

NEW! PnP Contests
Member Contests
Contest Winners

Sailor Moon Home
Games

Members
Moonatics
Gold Writers
Silver Writers
Free Members

Galleries
Sailor Moon

Music
Sailor Moon
Christmas
Read !
Poetry
Stories
Books
Columns
Recipes
MoonNotes
Write !
Poetry
Stories
Books
Recipes
MoonNotes
Workshops
Poetry Workshop
Stories Workshop
Books Workshop
Reference
Poetry Help
Stories Help
F.A.Q

Programs
Sailor Moon Episodes
Banners
Resources

On Line
Frank Fields
Jane L.
2 Writers

0 Free Members

2 Members
31 Guests

Christmas Petals of Love
by Janet Owenby
copyright 12-19-2003


Age Rating: 18 to 127

 
Beneath a lighted Christmas tree
sitting on my great Grandpa's knee
holding his special gift to me

We played the game, shake and guess.
Package was too small for a dress.
Must be a diamond necklace!

But I couldn't hear a rattling sound,
when I shook this little box around.
I looked up at Grandpa and frowned.

He said, "I will give you a hint.
It is white with a crimson tint.
It's valuable and Heaven sent.”

Oh, what could this special gift be,
that Grandpa was offering me?
Which had set many sinners free.

It was weightless like a feather.
Not made of satin, nor leather.
More precious than Spring time heather.

This riddle with knowledge to gain,
was slowly driving me insane,
and teasing my immature brain.

I guessed a million times that night,
but I never did get it right,
and I would have to wait till daylight.

The tiny gift labeled with my name,
that stumped me at the guessing game,
was opened when Christmas morn came.

The gift I could not hear, or see,
was unwrapped upon Grandpa’s knee,
and this time, he had suprised me.

Seven blood-stained petals lay within
a shiny silver box of tin,
to remind me of forgiven sin.

Upon twisted dogwood limbs they grow,
as soft and pure as winter snow,
stained with His blood’s precious flow.


Spell Check Rhymer Poetry Analyst


Help Us Stop Plagiarism - Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize. To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste. click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before you recommend or rate the work highly...
Google
If you think this work is plagiarized please


Select a Random Work
from Poetry


Comments on this Article/Poem:
Click on the commenter's name to see their Author's Page

12-26-2003 Walter Jones    

Each word a cry , one in the wilderness, one in the dark, one in the last memories buried deep in your heart...may you continue to be blessed with words that flow both from your pen and heart, God has the conduit open...
Walt


12-20-2003 Joan Jotz    

Hi Jnaet,
This poem was striking in it's genuine simplicity. And with a lesson...the most impressive gifts are
the simple, innocent ones. Wonder-Full. Joan


12-19-2003 Irina Guschina    

So precious gift to Christmas! Warmed by memories about your Grandpa and his wise lesson, this poem makes me crying and sighing. The sigh with a happy heart.

I hear Christmas bell in this excellent poem…


Visitor Reads: 408
Total Reads: 440
Comments: 3

Author's Page

Email the Author

Add a Comment




Favorite of:





Send Page to a Friend
Points Reference Privacy
PnP Terms of Service Contact Us
  SEO Software

Visitors
View Stats