Poems by Michael Campbell


Christmas is lost

Christmas is lost in the admin,
the arm-long receipts,
the credit card bills in January,
lost in the cash register clicks and ticks of

The red-tape-tapeworm, of Xmassunk it’s teeth in,
Wriggled it’s way into my belly one day
And swallowed Christ –
And as a ribbon it twisted and tied me up inside,
That my heart was as a Nectarine seed.

Being so wrapped up in myself, I missed it completely.

I had lost it, like the man on the high street,
whose Christmas is a little more than a drink with friends
and an annual punch up.
I had lost it like in the selfishness of a child,
whose gift lists to Santa, are charged directly to mommy and daddy’s credit cards.
I had lost it, like a dozen Christmas office parties, celebrating for celebration sake.

I’m glad I know enough now, to tell the difference between a fake and the real thing.
That the Xmas on TV is not Christmas at all.
That dinner with family and friends and presents and food, is only,
Dinner with family and friends and presents and food.
That all the celebrating and merrymaking,
is simply a masquerade,
but is so much more when Jesus Christ is in midst of it.

Michael Campbell (Wembley Church)

Japanese Tea Cup

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