IT WAS CHRISTMAS EVE IN THE CASA
It was Christmas Eve in the casa,
On that charming Spanish hill;
And high in the star-filled dome above,
Was mirrored an earth so still.
It slept through the noise and tinsel,
For it cared not when nor why,
That man will fight among themselves,
And never reason why.
The chapel bells were tolling,
They talked from vale to vale;
High up in my hillside casa,
I felt that God prevailed.
A melody of eventide,
Each tower sang its song;
In Andalucía hillsides,
I dreamed where I belonged.
In vales below the twinkle lights,
A bed of stars it seemed;
I felt as one with God above,
I dreamed, I dreamed, I dreamed.
Let others do their worship,
At altars of their choice;
But let me be where I would be,
Where God is given voice.
Where chapel bells are singing;
Where hills are filled with hope;
From eventide, be by my side –
My small heart filled with hope.
Michael Walsh. Christmas Eve in Mijas Pueblo, Spain, 2011.
MICHAEL WALSH is a British born Irish poet and author whose total poetry collection exceeds that of Rudyard Kipling, Robert Service and other well-known poets with whom his verse has been compared. At the turn of the millennium, Michael Walsh was Britain’s fastest-selling contemporary poet.