christmas poems

20 Jolly Christmas Poems To Spark Up The Christmas Spirit

When the holidays set in, a good way to spread the Christmas spirit is through poems and carols. Christmas poems have a way of making Christmas more fun for your kids, family, and friends.

20 Jolly Christmas Poems To Spark Up The Christmas Spirit.

The Christmas spirit is not all about the exchange of gifts and food. It is mostly about spending quality time with the people you love and sharing in the joy of the season. Christmas poems can be said while in the company of your loved ones to spark off the glee of the Christmas season.

Looking out for the best Christmas poems to share during the season? we have just the most amazing list of poems for you.

  • My Dad Would Like To Be Santa
  • I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day
  • A Song Was Heard At Christmas
  • A Christmas Carol
  • Christmas Long Ago
  • Christmas Time
  • Christmas Eve
  • A Christmas Tree!
  • When Santa Claus Comes
  • ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas
  • Music on Christmas Morning
  • The Littlest Christmas Tree
  • Christmas Bells
  • Mom Is Making Christmas
  • O Christmas Tree
  • Candlelit Heart
  • This Section Is A Christmas Tree
  • Merry Christmas, Mom
  • A Family Christmas
  • There’s More to Christmas

Christmas poems

1. My Dad Would Like to Be Santa

His belly’s getting bigger,
And his hair is turning white.
His eyes shine and sparkle
Like the stars on Christmas night.

He couldn’t fit down chimneys
When he can just fit through a door.
One mince pie would never do
He’d only ask for more.

He likes a nip of brandy;
It sets his cheeks aglow.
When he forgets the words to carols,
He just shouts Ho, Ho, Ho.

He hasn’t got a reindeer
That runs silently through space,
But his car is Eco Friendly
And could beat Rudolph in a race.

He can’t afford a new red suit
With boots and matching belt,
But his smile is warmer than the sun
That can make the snow tops melt.

My dad would like to be Santa
And fill the world with glee,
So until they advertise the job,
He’ll give all his love to me.

Graham Craven

2. I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along th’unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head:
‘There is no peace on earth, ‘ I said
‘For hate is strong, and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.’

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.’

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

3. A Christmas Carol

The kings they came from out the south,
All dressed in ermine fine;
They bore Him gold and chrysoprase,
And gifts of precious wine.

The shepherds came from out the north,
Their coats were brown and old;
They brought Him little new-born lambs–
They had not any gold.

The wise men came from out the east,
And they were wrapped in white;
The star that led them all the way
Did glorify the night.

The angels came from heaven high,
And they were clad with wings;
And lo, they brought a joyful song
The host of heaven sings.

The kings they knocked upon the door,
The wise men entered in,
The shepherds followed after them
To hear the song begin.

The angels sang through all the night
Until the rising sun,
But little Jesus fell asleep
Before the song was done.

Sara Teasdale

4. Christmas Long Ago

Frosty days and ice-still nights,
Fir trees trimmed with tiny lights,
Sound of sleigh bells in the snow,
That was Christmas long ago.

Tykes on sleds and shouts of glee,
Icy-window filigree,
Sugarplums and candle glow,
Part of Christmas long ago.

Footsteps stealthy on the stair,
Sweet-voiced carols in the air,
Stocking hanging in a row,
Tell of Christmas long ago.

Starry nights so still and blue,
Good friends calling out to you,
Life, so fact, will always slow…
For dreams of Christmas long ago.

Jo Geis

5. Christmas Time

At Christmas, lights burn brighter,
and friendly hugs get even tighter.
The spirit of Christmas fills the air,
and people seem to really care.

Merry hearts are filled with cheer.
Families and friends all draw near.
The streets around are all filled
despite the cold winter chill.

Everywhere there’s smiling faces,
giving and receiving warm embraces.
And for a time, sadness disappear.
Peace, joy and hope replaces fear.

All because God’s love came down
and filled the earth all around.
So we celebrate at Christmas time
our Savior and Lord, holy, divine!

We honor Jesus throughout the year
so the Christmas spirit will linger near.
For the story of His birth is ours to tell –
that Jesus became our Emmanuel!

Lenora McWhorter

6. Christmas Eve

Oh sharp diamond, my mother!
I could not count the cost
of all your faces, your moods-
that present that I lost.
Sweet girl, my deathbed,
my jewel-fingered lady,
your portrait flickered all night
by the bulbs of the tree.

Your face as calm as the moon
over a mannered sea,
presided at the family reunion,
the twelve grandchildren
you used to wear on your wrist,
a three-months-old baby,
a fat check you never wrote,
the red-haired toddler who danced the twist,
your aging daughters, each one a wife,
each one talking to the family cook,
each one avoiding your portrait,
each one aping your life.

Later, after the party,
after the house went to bed,
I sat up drinking the Christmas brandy,
watching your picture,
letting the tree move in and out of focus.
The bulbs vibrated.
They were a halo over your forehead.
Then they were a beehive,
blue, yellow, green, red;
each with its own juice, each hot and alive
stinging your face. But you did not move.
I continued to watch, forcing myself,
waiting, inexhaustible, thirty-five.

I wanted your eyes, like the shadows
of two small birds, to change.
But they did not age.
The smile that gathered me in, all wit,
all charm, was invincible.
Hour after hour I looked at your face
but I could not pull the roots out of it.
Then I watched how the sun hit your red sweater, your withered neck,
your badly painted flesh-pink skin.
You who led me by the nose, I saw you as you were.
Then I thought of your body
as one thinks of murder-

Then I said Mary-
Mary, Mary, forgive me
and then I touched a present for the child,
the last I bred before your death;
and then I touched my breast
and then I touched the floor
and then my breast again as if,
somehow, it were one of yours.

Anne Sexton

7. A Christmas Tree!

A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
With dark green needled memories
Of childhood dreams and mysteries
Wrapped present-like in front of me.

A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
I glimpse a past wherein i see
The child that then grew into me
Not forward fast but haltingly.

A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
A time for being with family
A time that’s gone so fleetingly
Yet lives for always deep in me.

A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
When twelfth night comes whole hauntingly
One lingered look and then i see
No Christmas tree where it would be.

A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
With feelings now felt longingly
No corner in my house to see
The magic of that Christmas tree.

David Keig

8. When Santa Claus Comes

A good time is coming, I wish it were here,
The very best time in the whole of the year;
I’m counting each day on my fingers and thumbs —
the weeks that must pass before Santa Claus comes.

Then when the first snowflakes begin to come down,
And the wind whistles sharp and the branches are brown,
I’ll not mind the cold, though my fingers it numbs,
For it brings the time nearer when Santa Claus comes.

Anonymous

9. ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds;
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blixen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too–

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.

His eyes–how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight–
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Clement Clarke Moore

10. Music on Christmas Morning

Music I love -­ but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine -­
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.
Though Darkness still her empire keep,
And hours must pass, ere morning break;
From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
That music kindly bids us wake:
It calls us, with an angel’s voice,
To wake, and worship, and rejoice;

To greet with joy the glorious morn,
Which angels welcomed long ago,
When our redeeming Lord was born,
To bring the light of Heaven below;
The Powers of Darkness to dispel,
And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.

While listening to that sacred strain,
My raptured spirit soars on high;
I seem to hear those songs again
Resounding through the open sky,
That kindled such divine delight,
In those who watched their flocks by night.

With them, I celebrate His birth -­
Glory to God, in highest Heaven,
Good-will to men, and peace on Earth,
To us a Saviour-king is given;
Our God is come to claim His own,
And Satan’s power is overthrown!

A sinless God, for sinful men,
Descends to suffer and to bleed;
Hell must renounce its empire then;
The price is paid, the world is freed,
And Satan’s self must now confess,
That Christ has earned a Right to bless:

Now holy Peace may smile from heaven,
And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring:
The captive’s galling bonds are riven,
For our Redeemer is our king;
And He that gave his blood for men
Will lead us home to God again.

Acton

Anne Brontë

Christmas poems

11. The Littlest Christmas Tree

The littlest Christmas tree
lived in a meadow of green
among a family
of tall evergreens.
He learned how to whisper
the evergreen song
with the slightest of wind
that came gently along.

He watched as the birds
made a home out of twigs
and couldn’t wait till
he, too, was big.
For all of the trees
offered a home,
the maple, the pine, and the oak,
who’s so strong.

“I hate being little,”
the little tree said,
“I can’t even turn colors
like the maple turns red.
I can’t help the animals
like the mighty old oak.
He shelters them all
in his wide mighty cloak.”

The older tree said,
“Why, little tree, you don’t know?
The story of a mighty king
from the land with no snow?”
Little tree questioned,
“A land with no snow?”
“Yes!” said old tree,
“A very old story,
from so long ago.”

“A star appeared,
giving great light
over a manger
on long winter’s night.
A baby was born,
a king of all kings,
and with him comes love
over all things.”

“He lived in a country
all covered in sand,
and laid down his life
to save all of man.”

Little tree thought of the gift
given by him,
then the big tree said with the
happiest grin,
“We’re not just trees,
but a reminder of that day.
There’s a much bigger part
of a role that we play!”

“For on Christmas Eve,
my life I’ll lay down,
in exchange for a happier,
loving ground.
And as I stand dying,
they’ll adorn me in trim.
This all will be done
in memory of him.”

“Among a warm fire,
with family and friends,
in the sweet songs of Christmas,
I’ll find my great end.
Then ever so gently,
He’ll come down to see
and take me to heaven,
Jesus and me.”

“So you see, little tree,
we are not like the oak
who shelters all things
beneath his great cloak.
Nor are we like the maple
in fall,
whose colors leave many
standing in awe.”

“The gift that we give
is ourselves, limb for limb,
the greatest of honor,
in memory of him.”

The little tree bowed
his head down and cried
and thought of the king
who willingly died.
For what kind of gift
can anyone give
than to lay down your life
when you wanted to live?

A swelling of pride
came over the tree.
Can all of this happen
Because of just me?
Can I really bring honor?
By adorning a home?
By reminding mankind
that he’s never alone?

With this thought, little tree
began singing with glee.
Happy and proud
to be a true Christmas tree.

You can still hear them singing
even the smallest in height,
singing of Christmas
and that one holy night.

Amy Peterson

12. Christmas Bells

“I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

13. Mom is Making Christmas

Cookies baking in the kitchen-
The smell floats through the air;
Mom is making Christmas
with her usual merry flair

The house she gaily decorated,
Each gift she stiched with love,
And we’ll gather around the Christmas tree
for an evening of old-fashioned fun

This evening she’ll sing a carol for us
With her angel’s voice.
Yes, Mom is making Christmas-
A true reason to rejoice.

Vicky A. Luong

14. O Christmas Tree

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
You truly are a beauty.
I used to love to put you up,
Now it’s a dreaded duty.

Lugging you out from storage
Gets more strenuous each year,
And assembling all your branchy parts
Does not fill me with cheer.

Then each and every little stem
I tediously unflatten.
Your artificial symmetry,
It doesn’t…just…happen.

Next challenge is your tree lights,
Which I always have to wrangle.
No matter how I’ve coiled them,
They unwind in a tangle.

A few choice words escape me
As I clear the final knot,
Then turn to find the other end
Has formed another clot.

I string them from your branches,
Draping with the greatest care,
To find that I’ve run out of lights,
Your bottom third still bare.

After some more botched attempts
They’re artfully arranged.
Your lights are nice and even
Though I’m feeling quite deranged.

These days the decorating
Doesn’t hold the same appeal.
Now that the kids are all grown up,
It’s left for me to deal.

I miss the days when they were young,
We’d trim your boughs together.
With Christmas carols playing,
They are memories I treasure.

Your ornaments now look just right
From every viewing angle,
But at your back against the wall,
The not so nice ones dangle.

At long last the job is done.
It’s taken me all day;
Too worn out to appreciate
Your beautiful display.

On Christmas Day you play your part,
All twinkling in resplendence,
With family all gathered round
And opening their presents.

O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
A sight extraordinary;
Must steel myself to pack you up,
It’s almost February!

Cynthia C. Naspinski

15. Candlelit Heart

Somewhere across the winter world tonight
You will be hearing chimes that fill the air;
Christmas extends its all-enfolding light
Across the distance…something we can share.

You will be singing, just the same as I,
These familiar songs we know so well,
And you will see these same stars in your sky
And wish upon that brightest one that fell.

I shall remember you and trim my tree,
One shining star upon the topmost bough;
I will hang wreaths of faith that all may see —
Tonight I glimpse beyond the hear and now.

And all the time that we must be apart
I keep a candle in my heart.

Mary E. Linton

16. This Section is a Christmas Tree

This section is a Christmas tree:
Loaded with pretty toys for you.
Behold the blocks, the Noah’s arks,
The popguns painted red and blue.

No solemn pine-cone forest-fruit,
But silver horns and candy sacks
And many little tinsel hearts
And cherubs pink, and jumping-jacks.

For every child a gift, I hope.
The doll upon the topmost bough
Is mine. But all the rest are yours.
And I will light the candles now.

Vachel Lindsay

17. Merry Christmas, Mom

For all of the presents
You put under the tree,
For all of the times
You picked up after me…

For all of the times
That you tucked me in tight
And we stayed up to talk
Long into the night

For all of the days
I was feeling so down
And the times that you turned
To a smile my frown

For the cookies you baked
And the stockings you stuffed,
For the cuts that you healed
And the pillows you fluffed…

For the time that you took
Off the training wheels
For the nights that you made me
My favorite meals

For the years throughout
Elementary school
For knowing the right thing
Isn’t always what’s cool

For putting up with
Those preteen years
For making it through
All the laughs and the tears

For all of the days
That you loved me so much
Even during the times
That I made it so tough…

For all of the memories
We have already shared
For the future for which
We cannot be prepared

For being there for that one-year-old boy
Who sat in the house and sucked on his thumb
For working so hard at being his mom
And making that boy into the man I’ve become
Look back on all that we have been through
And look at me now mom, how far I have come

For all of the times I’ll never forget
Merry Christmas to you, Mom
Here’s to the memories
We haven’t had yet

Merry Christmas…Love, Nick

Mary Butto

Related Reads:

18. A Family Christmas

Sitting in front of the fire, Auntie Flo’s reciting a story,
it’s one about her first Christmas as a newly wed,
the same one she broadcasts every year,
but no one is listening.

Uncle Fred, ‘out to the world’ snores rhythmically
on the sofa.

Mother exhausted, having cooked the lunch,
without help, as usual,
stifles a yawn.

Dad, brow furrowed, is trying to piece together
Eddy’s lego set,
whilst Eddy glowers,
after all, it was ‘his’ present.

Joe, playing with a set of ‘disco lights’
is sending flashes of colour across the room,
straight into Grandpa’s eyes,
making him feel even more bilious
after having consumed too many chocolates.

Grandma’s knitting.
Grandma always knits on Christmas Day,
and every other day, come to that,
probably yet another scarf for what she believes is
still the war effort.

The cat, curled up on her lap, purrs contently,
oblivious of the knitting needles, waving precariously
in front of his sleepy eyes.

Susan is gazing at the TV screen, .
glued, for the umpteenth time to, ‘The Sound of Music’ movie,
singing every song, word for word,
at the top of her voice.

‘Turkey was nice’, said Auntie,
‘I was given too much’, moaned Grandpa, belching loudly.
‘Your problem is, you never can refuse a second helping’, said Grandma, ‘so it’s your own fault’.

Mother grins and asks,
‘Would anybody like another mince pie? ‘

Ernestine Northover

19. There’s More to Christmas

There’s More to Christmas…
There’s more, much more to Christmas
Than candle-light and cheer;
It’s the spirit of sweet friendship
That brightens all the year;
It’s thoughtfulness and kindness,
It’s hope reborn again,
For peace, for understanding
And for goodwill to men!

Anonymous

20. A Song was Heard at Christmas

A song was heard at Christmas
To wake the midnight sky:
A saviour’s birth, and peace on earth,
And praise to God on high.

The angels sang at Christmas
With all the hosts above,
And still we sing the newborn King
His glory and his love.

Timothy Dudley-Smith

Christmas is indeed a time to make merry; sing songs and get high on laughter. But there’s one activity that blends most with the event- poetry reading. Everyone is seated at the fireplace, ears all twitched granting attention, while eyes remain cresent as smile in appreciation of the merry season.

Share these Christmas Poems with your family and friends and watch the spirit of Christmas come to life.

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