Hi Christina,
You say you're uncomfortable about poems that mention poetry. Yeh, half of 
me agrees with you - but only half! (perhaps it's a bit like a painter 
painting him or herself painting...). I've come across a couple of poems 
recently that have done what I've ended up doing here, and I think they've 
done it better!, and I guess the thought stuck with me - can I do that, can 
I get away with it, too?
It is a very unenglish thing to do, though.
And, I accept, the ending isn't the poem's strongest feature! I was 
intruiged by the two lines before the last line - shocked myself by writing 
"I don't care" and then might have felt I needed something softer to be 
said...
Bob

>From: Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
>Date: Sat, 11 Dec 2004 15:21:56 EST
>
>
>I remember that song, Bob.  It's a very gentle poem and I like the way
>something so fleeting stays in the narrator's heart for years. I like the
>half-empty half bottle of Bells (ding dong merrily, not high).  I'm not  
>sure about
>the last line.  I feel slightly uncomfortable when poetry's  mentioned in a 
>poem
>and somehow, this doesn't feel like the best possible  ending.  What do you
>think?
>bw
>christina
>
>It Came  Upon The Midnight Clear
>
>It was Christmas Eve, we’d all been  singing
>and a half-empty half-bottle of Bells
>warmed in my hand in one  overcoat pocket
>and your hand held mine in the other
>as our shoes  squeaked on the snow.
>
>Maybe you were singing softly - *It’ll be  lonely
>this Christmas, lonely and cold* -
>maybe I sang too, maybe  not,
>that might have been the song that year -
>then under a streetlight  you almost slipped
>
>and we embraced, chilled nose to warm cheek,
>and  your eyes were clear light.
>I don’t care what’s become of you
>or of me.  We moved on. Only this happened,
>and only for as long as this  poem.
>
>Bob Cooper
>
>
>