Alan Bullard (b. 1947)
We stood on the hills, our day’s work done, watching
the frosted meadows that winter had won. The evening was calm, the air so
still, silence and restful peace enfolded the hill. There was a bright star,
that shone in the night, larger than Venus it was and bright, so bright. A
voice from the sky to us did say: God is
now born to us on earth today. And so we have come, our day’s work done, our
loves, our hopes, ourselves we give to your son. (anon.)