Holidays are up in smoke
Around my neck an uneven yoke
Cupid, Patrick, Nick and Halloween
I am going to bow my head and scream.
They’re coming faster every year
Month’s in advance they suddenly appear.
What’s next will we celebrate with gifts?
The National Day of Surgical Lifts?
What would Jesus do, we should humbly say?
Would He wear green on Patty’s Day?
No, I don’t think He’d take a single minute
If He could not find His Father in it!
We need to roam away from Rome
Who’s trying to steal our path to Home?
Where Satan can pose as an angel of light
And Christian’s hearts swell with Pagan delight
Where Grecian gods became such joy
And holidays become our idealistic toy
Oh, What would our Savior say
When He speaks to us on Judgment Day?
You are to love each other all the time
Not once a year in a Valentine
And save your kiss for Me alone
Not for some distant Irish stone
And why has it become your habit
To celebrate My death as an ‘Easter Rabbit’?
Whose ideas are you really choosing?
When you risk My plan you may be losing
Need I mention October’s Halloween
As though a thought of God is weaved
Into this blind and wretched feast
OH WOE to you who choose to eat
What’s being fed to you by The Beast?
As you become what you choose to seek
Do not blame Me for your worldly deceit
I gave you all My Truth and free choice indeed!
Donna Dugan 02 Feb 2007
Posted in Poetry by Sharon with no comments yet.
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