Tea towels that simply won’t stay,
tied on with dressing gown cords,
halos lopsided or sagging,
slipping down over eyes lit with mirth.
Crowns that are coming unstuck
as the tinfoil decides to unravel,
yet, together creating a scene
of such harmony and tranquillity
that it tugs at the heart strings
and reminds all who look on
of the chaos and the holiness
that unfolded so long ago
in a stable in Bethlehem,
when God was born
in a feeding trough.
Liz Crumlish December 2011