Only A Child

Mary, she was just fourteen,
a youthful virgin soul.
Though warm, her hands, right to the touch
the twilight winds were cold.

Came to her, angelic light,
with news beyond the realm.
A barren womb, no longer waits,
in grace was Mary whelmed.

A child, was she just herself,
the news came without laud.
Until the child learned her womb
would bear the son of God.

Goodness came alight that night,
as Christ the lord was born.
Then all rejoiced in faithful voices
come that Christmas morn.

A child, she was just herself,
now mother of the lord.
Full of grace and love’s embrace,
the race of man restored.