Nativity Scenes

I'm thinking of Christmas Eve, the Nativity scene, and how one can make that all new.  I've written on this issue several times already (at least once this week)--let me write some random thoughts and see if I can discover any patterns:

--I've seen several yards that have the old-fashioned manger scene, the kind made out of plastic that lights up--but these yards also have blow-up items close enough that they, too, seem to be part of the scene.  It's both disconcerting and wonderful to see Star Wars figures and penguins and Santa hovering near the plastic Nativity scenes.

--I've also seen some houses with those plastic, lit-up Nativity scenes on the roof.  What's that about?

--We still have not set up our inside nativity scene.  I remember one year, one of our housemates added to it, a purple, plastic monkey from a game where the goal is to scoop up monkeys and make a chain.  I loved that image.

--I have nothing new to say, it seems, but here's a poem that I wrote that uses Nativity scenes:

Nativity Scene
Through the years, the stable attracted
the odds and ends of our childhood toys:
a plastic soldier, his rifle chewed and mangled,
migrated from the war zone;
a horse, which once helped herd
plastic animals, now riderless and alone;
a Magic 8 ball with murky
water, the answers to our questions, obscured;
a nutcracker dressed in festive finery, but missing
its lower jaw, its mission in life undone;
lonely Barbie, hair shorn from too many experiments,
now loveless and forlorn;
a matchbox car, once prized, now missing
a wheel and limping along;
a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle doll with other refugees
from popular shows of past years;
a gingerbread boy gamepiece, knowing he belongs elsewhere,
neglecting his duties in Candyland, so compelling
is the baby in the manger.