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The Oxen · Ririro.com - Poetry

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  Speaker 1: The oxen Christmas Eve and twelve of the clock. Now
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  Speaker 1: they are all on their knees. And Elder said, as
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  Speaker 1: we sat in a flock by the embers in hearth
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  Speaker 1: side Ease, we pictured the meek, mild creatures where they
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  Speaker 1: dwelt in their strawy pen. Nor did it occur to
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  Speaker 1: one of us there to doubt they were kneeling. Then,
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  Speaker 1: so fair a fancy few would weave in these years.
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  Speaker 1: Yet I feel if someone said, on Christmas Eve, come
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  Speaker 1: see the oxen kneel in the lonely Barton by Yondra Coomb,
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  Speaker 1: our childhood used to know I should go with him
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  Speaker 1: in the gloom, hoping it might be so