A 'found' Christmas Carol poem written and read for the St Cyr Carol Service.

A 'found' poem based on the readings, carols and poems at the Carol Service at St Cyr's Church Stinchcombe. December 18th 2022.

Mary the mother mild.
Jesus her little child, the spirit of the lord upon him,
with wisdom and knowledge,
so vast as waters cover the sea.

Peace in impossible things, thundering unthinkable wings,
round an incredible star, which led,
with joy at its beaming bright, its joy, its crown,
that we may evermore be led to thee.

The son of God, he will be,
in whom nothing is impossible,
a servant, I am, said she,
according to your word.

It couldn’t be so! But it was merry! Very!
Perhaps it means a little bit more and so we,
and they, all gathered, saints before the altar bending,
to worship Christ the new-born king, wrapped in bands of cloth,
in a manger, through there being no room in the inn.

For He had seen, a scorched land,
shadows, people waiting, arms outstretched,
let me go there, he had said. How silently he did,
to that little town, and the dear Christ had entered in.

Angels proclaimed, glory to god,
and peace to the favoured.
Hail thou ever blessed morn, they sang,
for Christ is born in Bethlehem

A king heard word, wise men sought,
and paid homage with gifts for a messiah,
and so rang out the wild bells,
but hearing them I doubted, poor as I am,
what could I give him, a lamb? my all? No, I would give my heart.

So let us come and adore him,
the word made flesh,
for in the beginning was the word,
before all else began.

(Leading into the Gospel of John chapter 1, verse 1.)

(C) Andrew Hill