A tiny baby
A pile of hay
So much unspoken
So much to say
Like: come to Me
Yes..come and see
Your king...Your God
In obscurity.
No trumpet blast
No big parade
Will welcome Him
On Christmas Day
But rather all
Will come and sing
Of God made man
An infant King
You'll see the poor
The shepherd kind
Who have no more
then twigs they find
To offer Him
To heat and build
These simple souls
Approach unskilled
Great kings were there
Oh yes they were
Bearing gifts like
Gold and myhrr
They followed stars
and the greatest one
Revealed to them
God had a Son
We.. like them:
The very poor
Will come approach
Him and adore
With heartfelt thanks
and love sincere
For giving us all
This Babe most dear
Merry Christmas....Joy
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