On Christmas Eve, when we prepare,
Filling stockings with Christmas fare.
How often do our thoughts return,
To a story we should all re-learn.
The spirit of Christmas, peace and love,
Son sent from Father up above,
The Heavenly Babe to Mary born,
Beneath the star on Christmas morn.
Animals with them in the stable,
Manger for our dear Lord’s cradle.
Three Wise Men coming from afar,
All following that distant Star.
Three Kings, the story said there were,
Bringing Gold and Frankincense and Myrrh.
Following the brightest Star above,
Arriving there with gifts of love.
Whilst on high the Angels singing,
Shepherds to their feet were springing,
Remembering the tales of old,
Which spoke of a New World to unfold.
Bringing Peace and Joy to all Mankind,
King Herod was of different mind,
The little babe he sought to slay,
Was saved from him without delay.
And so another Christmas comes,
And still we have the sound of guns.