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The mingled smells
Of dung and damp straw
Almost made her retch.

She was exhausted
From the trip and
Her back hurt bad.

It was all she could
Manage to brace the
Child as he suckled.

All night long, the
Clamor of men-
Goat herders, soothsayers,

Their strange accents
The obscene packages.
By the cold light

Of the star that has
Stalked her a fortnight,
She calls for a little wine

To take off the edge
Of her immodesty,
The inglorious spectacle

Wow, terrific, Ken. You're so good at recasting Biblical references in modern clothes.

Thanks Bob. I can't say it's a popular genre of poetry, but I like to write it.

Good poem with all the right touches. Nothing to change as far as I can see.

Thanks Billy

Hi Ken,

Workshop consider for the title:

Far from a Silent Night

Ken, would your poem here be available to represent the WB, if of course you don't already have a poem representing elsewhere

Thanks, Ken

Michael

Yes. Thanks