|Blogs > bobbydazzler69x > wit & wisdom of Bobby dazzler|
Christmas- is it true?
Christmas- is it true?
My Gold membership expires tomorrow and I'm going out a bit, then its Christmas, then I'm off to the States on 3 January for 14 days - Newark- Nashville- Tampa (maybe Miami). I don't think I'll renew until 2006. I'm not too sure what a standard membership permits (I'll find out), but I wanted to put up this post today in case there's a problem. It's my favourite Christams poem, called Christmas by John Betjeman (the former poet Laureate). I know it by heart.
The picture is Caravaggio's Nativity with San Lorenzo and San Francesco. It was stolen in 1969 from the Oratory of San Lorenzo, Palermo, Italy and removed the Caravaggio Nativity from its frame. Experts estimate its value at $20 million. Could it possibly be a believer who has it? There's a short story for Christmas all you creative writers.
The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain.
In many a stained-glass window sheen
From Crimson Lake to Hooker's Green.
The holly in the windy hedge
And round the Manor House the yew
Will soon be stripped to deck the ledge,
The altar, font and arch and pew,
So that villagers can say
'The Church looks nice' on Christmas Day.
Provincial public houses blaze
And Corporation tramcars clang,
On lighted tenements I gaze
Where paper decorations hang,
And bunting in the red Town Hall
Says 'Merry Christmas to you all'
And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.
And girls in slacks remember Dad,
And oafish louts remember Mum,
And sleepless children's hearts are glad,
And Christmas morning bells say 'Come!'
Even to shining ones who dwell
Safe in the Dorchester Hotel.
And is it true? and is it true?
The most tremendous tale of all,
Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,
A Baby in an ox's stall?
The Maker of the stars and sea
Become a Child on earth for me?
And is it true? For if it is,
No loving fingers tying strings
Around those tissued fripperies,
The sweet and silly Christmas things,
Bath salts and inexpensive scent
And hideous tie so kindly meant.
No love that in a family dwells,
No carolling in frosty air,
Nor all the steeple-shaking bells
Can with this single Truth compare -
That God was Man in Palestine
And lives to-day in Bread and Wine.
12/14/2005 9:30 am
Please come back to Blog with standard membership. I love to read your posts. They are some of the funiest, informative and least pretentious on this site. Will miss you, Rose|
Have a great Christmastime
12/15/2005 4:23 am
Bless you, Rose. These are just like messages in bottles. There is real life in your Blogs, and a deeply feminine perspective that I get a lot out of reading too. I plan to Blog a bit when I am in the States. Unfortunately, nowhere near Pa. but I was there a few years ago and visited Gettysburg. Deeply moving.|
Have a great Christmas and New year!