no silence is found, but deep in ground
and spirit has flown up in smoke
gentlemen rest restlessly, holes in stockings
where forced space-air takes chimney’s place
there’s guns watching over the children,
and no one can find the mother,
and the father of all, has left his stall,
wincing at Kings and their crow
trees of light bring dreaded blight,
bonfires can be seen from a star,
midnight deeds where foxholes breed
bullets in Bethlehem’s barn
no warmth in the homes, where gold covers brrr,
no toothy wish to be brought by reindeer,
our merry is fairly well mixed as a brew,
and our sense is bitter and frank
our one hope to cope, is one last matchstick of love
with no bomb-witted fuse attached,
and a chorus of men's voices rising from den:
Peace, on earth, so God sees our worth!
In a list
A contest entry
- PIF....Quickie? ............Christmas theme..... by islekine.
450 points, ended December 12, 2007, 10 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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"our one hope to cope, is one last matchstick of love
with no bomb-witted fuse attached,
and a chorus of men, voices rising from den"
This is a marvelously truthful & wise penning, my Friend. Good luck in the contest, Sweetie. 
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thank you, my friend. I am really getting into christmas, as you can tell.
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