Midnight Magic

With the first of midnight’s strokes

The ox to his stablemate ass spoke:

“My friend! Why must you look so glum?

He whose Cross adorns your back is come!

Rejoice with me!”

As the second peal of the bell was heard

Up on the rafters of the stable, a bird

Preened his red breast and trilled his song:

“Praise our God for whom we have waited long!

Rejoice with us!”

Chimes three, four and five rang true and clear

Three shepherds, each bearing a lamb, draw near

Each lamb bleats softly, three as one:

“All hail to the Virgin’s Child, God’s Son

Rejoice, everyone!”

Peals six and seven shimmer and fade away

The magic midnight hour cannot be stayed

Two tiny moths around a candle weave their dance

The Child’s eyes follow them, entranced:

“Rejoice! Rejoice, and dance!”

Eight, nine, ten: the bell seems to toll faster

A dog, a cat, a mouse gaze at their Master

Enemies of old, perchance, but not tonight

As they adore the Baby, mild and bright:

“Rejoice! The Saviour is here!”

Eleven, twelve: the night’s toll dies away

Soon, with the dawning of a brand new day

Each animal’s gift to understand another

Must lie a further twelvemonth, undiscovered

Until the Christmas magic works its spell