3 Holiday Poems

Enjoy these holiday poems, share them with friends and family. The holidays are times for the enjoyment of family and friends. A time of memories and happiness. It is our hope that these poems give you encouragement to enjoy the holiday. No matter what the holiday stop and enjoy the moments, don't get so caught up in the busyness of the season that you miss the most important things. It is also a time to stop and give thanks for all that we have and to appreciate the people in our lives that make a difference.

Also, be encouraged by our collection of holiday quotes to give you food for thought about the holidays.

Short Poems   /   Poems About Life    /  Holiday Poems

happy holidays

  1. Holiday Joy
    Poet: Julie Hebert, 2015

    Today is but a holiday,
    The best one I do think.
    Hang the decor and bake the food,
    It's time to celebrate.

    My favourite thing about this is,
    All the family and friends.
    Conversation feels like a vacation,
    Get it all in before it ends.

    Today is my favourite thing,
    A holiday to enjoy.
    Crafts and baking and decorating,
    So many wonderful joys.

    The best thing about this holiday,
    Besides all those wonderful things.
    I get to spend every minute with you,
    While we talk, dance and even sing.

  2. The Day of Days
    Poet: Edgar A. Guest

    A year is filled with glad events:
    The best is Christmas day,
    But every holiday presents
    Its special round of play,
    And looking back on boyhood now
    And all the charms it knew,
    One day, above the rest, somehow,
    Seems brightest in review.
    That day was finest, I believe;
    Though many grown-ups scoff,
    When mother said that we could leave
    Our shoes and stockings off.

    Through all the pleasant days of spring
    We begged to know once more
    The joy of barefoot wandering
    And quit the shoes we wore;
    But always mother shook her head
    And answered with a smile:
    "It is too soon, too soon," she said.
    "Wait just a little while."
    Then came that glorious day at last
    When mother let us know
    That fear of taking cold was past
    And we could barefoot go.

    Though Christmas day meant much to me,
    And eagerly I'd try
    The first boy on the street to be
    The Fourth day of July,
    I think: the summit of my joy
    Was reached that happy day
    Each year, when, as a barefoot boy,
    I hastened out to play.
    Could I return to childhood fair,
    That day I think I'd choose
    When mother said I needn't wear
    My stockings and my shoes.

  3. Holidays
    Poet: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    The holiest of all holidays are those
    Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
    The secret anniversaries of the heart,
    When the full river of feeling overflows;
    The happy days unclouded to their close;
    The sudden joys that out of darkness start
    As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
    Like swallows singing down each wind that blows.
    White as the gleam of a receding sail,
    White as the cloud that floats and fades in air,
    White as the whitest lily on a stream,
    These tender memories are; a fairy tale
    Of some enchanted land, we know not where.
    But lovely as a landscape in a dream.

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