Snow In The Air
Snow In The Air
Snow in the air
comes gently down
and it is everywhere
as it hits the the ground
it can be love because it is pure and white
Snow in the air
love fills children with delight
because they do not care
they take a slieghride downhill.
Snow in the air
looks beautiful to me
the snow is on the ground this winter night.
it looks bright against the darkness especially
nothing is wrong everything is white.
poem by Meg Harrison
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A May Wedding
A May Wedding
As a bride who has the long veil around her head
The dogwood has white petals and they hide branches on the tree.
When it is time for her to kiss the groom
And the petals fall gently.
They become a white cloth spread neatly.
This looks like a wedding dress with a long train behind her
As she is walking down the aisle in the room
The wedding bells are ringing until she is out of sight
The wind appears and I see white doves in flight.
poem by Meg Harrison
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Snow On Christmas(revised)
The snow comes down so gently like God’s Love for Mary and for us
When he gave us Jesus and Mary remained pure as snow.
Jesus was conceived in her virgin’s womb.
Snow is clean and bright as her love for Jesus Christ.
Snow is soft like the skin of Jesus
a newborn baby on Christmas Night.
The snow flying gently to the ground like a white dove
which come without a sound this reminds me of the Holy Spirit.
Also the angels wings of Gabriel Who told Mary,
She was chosen by God to bear his son.
poem by Meg Harrison
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The Same Star
The same star that led the wise men to Bethlehem
brought us together at Christmas time.
We never followed it like the wise men,
The bright star gave us light
Since it is the power of God's Love.
Today the star is bright
Just like it was on Christmas day.
Maybe the Saints are still celebrating Jesus birth.
The star is still bright
And it reminds us of Christmas day.
Even though Jesus was born so long ago.
The same star shines everyday.
It reminds us, 'Christ has died;
Christ is risen and Christ will come again
poem by Meg Harrison
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With Rose In Hand
Prayer is worth more than a rose
in my hand where love grows
for God and all he knows
The rose has a thorn
which Jesus felt on the crown he had worn.
the rose is red as the blood from his head
when he was crucifed before we were born.
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poem by Meg Harrison
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