My heart is poinsettia red,
You have filled it with Your own dear blood,
My love in return to all others spread,
None do You exclude, tho you could.
Our efforts to give wax so pitying,
Next to Your humble babe s crying,
Even so, tho some decry harried gift-giving,
It is in such giving we are living, nor dying.
Explosions of shiny foil red blue and green,
The most novel expressions Man s ever seen.
What s too much for me, if I am quieter,
Let everyone be, the gaudier the better
Lights on trees, doorways and stores,
Echo that star that bids us yore.
Hail, hail, the bells, let red hearts sing out
You live in us - there is no doubt
And my heart is poinsettia red.