Song: "Bow Down and Wishop Him" by Bishop Paul S. Morton

I love this song. Please let it touch your spirit and share it with another.

Christmas Poem: "As A Baby Jesus Came"

Many Blessings my Brothers and Sisters !!! Here is another christmas poem I found by M.S.Lowndes.You can find more christian poems for all occassions on her website http://www.heavensinspirations.com/.

Please remember Jesus is the reason for the season.

As A Baby Jesus Came

As a baby Jesus came

From His home above

He left His throne and who He was

To teach us how to love

As a baby Jesus came

Wrapped in swaddling cloth

Willingly took on humanity

Though He was one with God

As a baby Jesus came

To one day grow to be

The saviour of the human race

People like you and me

As a baby Jesus came

As God’s eternal light

That will never be extinguished

But forever shine out bright

As a baby Jesus came

The hope of eternal life

Reconciling us back to God

Giving meaning to our lives

As a man Jesus died

His blood poured out for all

Cleansing and forgiving us

For to this He was called

We thank Him that He came a babe

And grew to be a man

And for His sacrificial love

His nailed scarred feet and hands

Through it all we can live on

With Jesus Christ our Lord

The babe that came that first Christmas

Is what we thank Him for

© By M.S.Lowndes

Monday Poem: "Hymn for the Nativity"

God Bless my Brothers and Sisters!!! It's Monday Poem Day!

Here is a poem  describing the Nativity.Please enjoy and share.

Hymn for the Nativity

Happy night and happy silence downward softly stealing,

Softly stealing over land and sea,

Stars from golden censors swing a silent eager feeling

Down on Judah, down on Galilee;

And all the wistful air, and earth, and sky,

Listened, listened for the gladness of a cry.

Holy night, a sudden flash of light its way is winging:

Angels, angels, all above, around;

Hark, the angel voices, hark, the angel voices singing;

And the sheep are lying on the ground.

Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky,

Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.

Happy night at Bethlehem; soft little hands are feeling,

Feeling in the manger with the kine:

Little hands, and eyelids closed in sleep, while angels kneeling,

Mary mother, hymn the Babe Divine.

Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky,

Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.

Wide, as if the light were music, flashes adoration:

"Glory be to God, nor ever cease,"

All the silence thrills, and speeds the message of salvation:

"Peace on earth, good-will to men of peace."

Lo, all the wistful air, and earth, and sky,

Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.

Holy night, thy solemn silence evermore enfoldeth

Angels songs and peace from God on high:

Holy night, thy watcher still with faithful eye beholdeth

Wings that wave, and angel glory nigh,

Lo, hushed is strife in air, and earth, and sky,

Still thy watchers hear the gladness of the cry.

Praise Him, ye who watch the night, the silent night of ages:

Praise Him, shepherds, praise the Holy Child;

Praise Him, ye who hear the light, O praise Him, all ye sages;

Praise Him, children, praise Him meek and mild.

Lo, peace on Earth, glory to God on high,

Listen, listen to the gladness of the cry.

- by Edward Thring



"The First Noel"

God Bless Brothers and Sisters!!!

Here is the instrumental version of "The First Noel" that I found on youtube. Enjoy!God Bless

Monday Poem: "The Three Kings" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

God Bless All!!!!!!

Christmas is rapidly approaching! Remember that Jesus is the reason for the season. Here is a beautiful poem about christmas. Please enjoy and share. God bless.

The Three Kings

Three Kings came riding from far away,

Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar;

Three Wise Men out of the East were they,

And they traveled 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 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 gray 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.

- by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow