19 DECEMBER 1987, Page 64

The Christmas Angel

Spy of a special branch, The Christmas angel Weighs his intelligence And finds it wanting.

He can scarcely believe What the little bird tells him Of an open secret Not to be kept, Of love's round-robin Sealed and delivered To every doorstep By a child's pierced hand.

So he spreads the word As if, as if - Like a hush-hush cradle Rocked in its tree.

John Mole