Christmas 1945 by Alice B. Johnson

Merry Christmas week to those who celebrate it — this poem is from my great-grandmother Alice B. Johnson (from her book Where Children Live (1958))

Christmas 1945

This is the day, the Christmas day,
The world has waited for —
This is the dream men dreamed of home
For four long years and more.

This is the dream that brought them through
Bastogne and Bougainville —
Through jungle heat and frozen waste,
Beyond each numbered hill.

Hang up the holly, mistletoe,
And light the Christmas tree,
And dream tonight of Bethlehem —
Think not of Calvary.

Think not of crosses in a row
Or comrades resting there —
They sleep above the stars tonight,
Safe in a Father’s care.

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Filed under Alice B. Johnson, Christmas, poem, poetry

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