by JT Till

Created on: November 01, 2010

The moon gleaned bright that winter’s night as the stars did in the sky,

The heavens sang and they proclaimed the birth that came nearby.

In a stable bare, with sheep and mare, a baby graced it’s presence,

No passers by, no sounds on high, just  beauty from His essence.

A simple child, with parents mild, and nothing for the coffer,
Yet a soul unmatched, He became attached, to Man kinds cup to offer.

A child, a man,  death was the plan, to turn our frowns to grins,

Was there no greater beauty shown, than to save us from our sins.

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