Sweet Christmas
&
New Year Poems
By Wilson Ayinbangya Amooro
Copyright 2014 Wilson Ayinbangya Amooro
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
DEDICATION:
Dedicated to YOU!
What others are saying about Sweet Christmas & New Year Poems
Sweet Christmas; a warm collection of poetry written by Wilson Amooro is one of the finest poetic book I have come across. The pages run with great emotions and the reader never regrets using hard earned cash to purchase a copy.
There are two categorized poems. One for Christmas and the other for New Year. Pick a copy via amazon.com and experience what needs to be felt poetically. A must book. Grab a copy.
James Robert Myers (MJ Jimmy), Author of Anthology: Breaking Silence- A Poetic Lifeline from Slavery to Love
These poems are inspiring. They allow you to see Christmas in a whole new light; through a kid's eye in simplicity and joy. Wilson, is not only gifted and passionate, he has great skill of delivering his poems.
Bernard Kelvin Clive, Amazon Author
Wilson the Poet has created a beautiful collection of emotions expressed through poetry. I am glad to be one of the first to read his words.
Shelly Dollar, CEO, President Making the Grade: Hope for African Youth. USA and Ethiopia
This collection of poetry is written from the heart. It's not difficult to identify with the feeling of love, anguish, sorrow and hope as expressed by young Wilson, look out for more work by this great young writer.
Mariska Araba Taylor-Darko, Ghanaian-U.K born Author (A Widow Must Not Speak)
My friend Wilson is the most inspiring young poet I have ever met. He warms my heart and brings tears to my eyes. We spent a wonderful 24 hours together as mother and son from different cultures and countries. I am so proud of him! He is a man of GOD.
Cheryl Thompson (American Godmother of Wilson),State University of New York at Geneseo Adjunct Faculty and Author of ‘Eli’s Rainbow’
When the cynicism of my age and life get me down, I often find myself turning to one of the lovely works by the talented young writer from Ghana, Wilson "The Poet" Amooro. If you find yourself over whelmed by emotion while reading one of Wilson's touching poems, feel free to have a good cry.
Judy Fane, Sociology Professor & Author of ‘Paddy the Pelican Survives the Storm’
I love Wilson's writing style, which is all at once simplistic, imaginative, and thoughtful. The Christmas collection continues in that style. His poetry is unique and heart-warming. Just the thing to read this holiday season.
Tiffany Howard, Tiffany Howard Marketing Services
Wilson holds open the door of hope, even when the sea is bad and the sky is tired of being blue, and hope is something with wings that dwells in the soul and sings the tune without words, and does not stop ever.
His poetic ego manifests agile in thought, crossing directional currents that bring to the moment in which time did not have the crown, to the moment in which the energies of love were free to scream.
As Pope Francis says in his poem: ‘We, clay pots filled with hope....’
His poems are full of emotions interwoven with hope. Hope nourished by the white robes in his great soul, made pure by the embrace of loving God.
Thanks my Dear soul friend Wilson Ayinbangya Amooro (Wilson the Poet) for your joy in writing and giving your heart, through the wonderful ways that illuminate our hearts with the future.
Your honored and Faithful Friend,
Her Excellency Emanuela De Marchi, Mutlti National Diplomat, Malino ITALY
Table of Contents
Christmas Poems
A little Child’s letter to God on Christmas Day
Hold My Hands
Granny’s Christmas Lipsticks
Christmas Heartbreak
In Santa Claus’ Arms
Language of Christmas
Beyond my Expectation
Santa
Give, Believe, Live
New
Christmas on a Sickbed
A Minute to Christmas
Blessed by Christmas
Christmas Night Nurse
Christmas Photographer
Blessed Christmas, Granny
Christmas
Thank You Santa
In the Eyes of Baby Jesus
New Year Poems
A Baby’s New Year’s Gift
Life
Intimate
New Year’s Heart Of Many Colours
Smile
WITH, WITHIN, WITHOUT!
This New Year
Soup for the New Year
Are you the one?
Future is Ahead
About Wilson Ayinbangya Amooro
Discover other titles by Wilson Ayinbangya Amooro
Connect with Wilson
Something from Love Letters Book
Christmas Poems
A little Child’s letter to God on Christmas Day
*****
Dear God
Many, many Christmases have passed me by,
I sent you several letters,
No sign to show you received any of them.
Please tell me,
If you are taking time to answer me in a special way,
I guess that will be enough to console me with a hug,
and make me feel just alright as your little child.
I starved myself of the soft and yummy ice cream for weeks,
saved my last pennies for my envelope and writing pad.
And the other kids made me into a teasing stock.
Oh, Dear God
Hear me out
Just this one moment
Search through my heart
Please, don’t let this last tear drop,
Walk through my cheeks in vain.
Is it because you know what I am thinking?
I am a sinner
I broke rules too
And I didn’t do my homework the last time
When I want to compare
All the new things the other kids have for Christmas,
It will only increase my pain.
All I have is a piece of my heart I share in this letter.
I have no more tears
I wait for the day when I will also smile
And when they see me from miles afar
The teasing label will become a pleasing star
Dear Lord, I don’t want much this Christmas.
Bless my world to accept me for who I am.
Hold My Hands
A stranger you were
A twinkle of an eye ago,
With an endearing glimpse
My hands you gently held.
Hold my hands
To cure my loneliness
And let our mutual intuitive feelings
Transcend to the land where we can
unearth our true happiness.
Hold my hands
To glue your world
To mine
to form that unbreakable bond
Hold my hands
and gently draw it closer to your heart
and feel its rhythmic beating
Intertwine
With mine.
Holding your hands
Always send impulses
traveling miles down my spine;
A feeling beyond what sensation can discover.
I
don't wish for any other Christmas present,
[Please, save your money]
Your fine fingers,
Occupying the empty rooms of mine,
Is enough a treasure,
To complete my being
This yuletide.
Granny’s Christmas Lipsticks
*****
I am seventy-five,
I lived and survived, several storms
I tell my memories to the children
As we dance and sing
To spark the Christmas fever.
Both young and old
We found we had much in common.
Whenever dusk met our last moments
Nothing more than to exchange
Hugs to keep our gentle spirits alive.
There was a kind little friend
Who fell deeply in love
with the moments we shared.
Her ice cream price she spared
For a home in my wrinkled palm.
I couldn’t hold my tears
For such a tender heart
being my first real St. Nicholas
For my many year’s walk on earth.
She taught me a lesson:
I dared to be a blessing,
To the little creatures,
On a special day like Christmas.
All the pennies I saved from the generous kids,
who poured their hearts out
Emulating the example
of the first little angel.
I bought lipsticks to decorate
All the cats in the neigbourhood.
They are so docile and adorable
They walk not in a hurry
I am glad God made friends like that
Who will always slow down and forget their own pains
To cuddle us with more attention
With a sweet purr or a gentle touch
In our low and glow situations.
Christmas Heartbreak
*****
I prayed
you should stay
this one Christmas.
But you were needed
somewhere else more.
Work took you distance ashore
far from the dreams
we had.
The night before,
no sign of anything bad.
We spoke of the many things
we will be missing
The memories still prick me
to the core.
Every moment that was spent
staring at your eyes, a blessing.
How would I know…
Those were somehow
The last moments as I flashback now
As you journey beyond the lonely distance
without a return,
I only hope you comeback as promised
before this Christmas candle burns out
so I could tell the baby we are expecting soon
You were a reminder of a part me
I have lost to Heaven
On one lonely Christmas Day.
*****
A stranger I thought you were
Until your intoxicating scent
Attracted me nigh
And crowned an overwhelming rapture
On throne ecstatic delight
Conferring a glory Heav’n sent
Your touch on my face
Rejuvenated my wrinkle pain
And made me young again
Your touch on my soul like gold
Cured my lonely cold
And rushed all over me
In impulses
Driven by stroke of gentle lovingness
The treasure of your soft words
Bring healing within me
Your wings---
Illuminates the dark isle revealed
And lit the future foreseen
When I opened my eyes,
I realized you were gone,
To bless the other homes,
Stay a while,
Let me whisper wishes
Not for me, but my generation and beyond
Into your sensitive ears Santa.
Oh, my sweetest angel for the season.
Thank you Santa, for my candy gift.
[It means a lot to me]
Language of Christmas
*****
It is such a precious treasure
piercing through territories,
without borders and boundaries.
Its fever soars exceedingly
and shines steadily
into embraced faces.
The linguistics of Christmas
reign universal
amongst open hearts
The nature of this language’s speech:
[even without a single word muttered]
is a deep fondness.
The charm of this language’s gesture:
is home to shelter.
Can any man ever resist a smile?
When she speaks…
Spontaneously,
you are caught falling for it
Naturally,
staring back.
This language is the fever
that comes every Christmas.
As we share and care for one another.
Beyond my Expectation
*****
When I had no identity
You didn’t look down
on me in my wretched pieces…
With a new gown
You redressed me
with dignity.
When I was vulnerable
you didn’t forsake me,
in your arms I found solace.
Your love is more than able
beyond my expectation.
Before my life’s deadline
I priced it for cheap rent
To say a warm adieu
to my frustrations.
Out of nowhere
you gave me a warm embrace
and revealed to me not many reasons,
but one secret:
Why existence doesn’t count
but finding the meaning of living
in both great and small moments.
So this Christmas
is one of those relished moments
Not to expect much
But to embrace life’s touch
whether great or small for me.
Santa
Kindness, Lovely
Smiling, Hugging, Singing
Surprises for every desire
Christmas
Give, Believe, Live
*****
When you give
Believe
When you believe
Live
When you live
Receive
When you receive
Don’t stop there
Give, believe and live again!
New
*****
This is not a story; it is me:
I used to pay daily devotion
to mourning.
One day, out of the blue,
in a trance with eyes filled with water,
[No words describe how the feeling started]
Bright blue skies’ and radiant smile(s),
greeted my morning,
humbled by a gentle lift,
that cheered my heart on.
I knew I had found something
Money can’t buy.
As each hurt emotions
of bitterness
found a window to escape by…
Now my-once-a-nobody
worry’s me not.
I embraced an inspiring voice
encouraging me to be the choice
I was hunting for.
With a new identity of a somebody
I take a deep breath
Looking at the value of what I wasted.
Now I know
I am more powerful than I think.
Born of favour and grace.
In my weakness
some didn’t criticize me;
they held my hands
gave me a reason.
I am a believer
I believe Christ is the reason for the season.
I just wish a few of my friends,
When they think about Christmas,
Will wear on them, a piece of Jesus
Thank you Lord
for transforming me for the better.
When I was too blind to see
you never gave up on me;
When I was too slow to know
the follow of the flow,
You never gave up on me.
It’s your birthday, and my lifted spirit
reminds me that,
You in me
is my most beautiful present for the yuletide.
Christmas on a Sickbed
****
I remember that night
I couldn’t move a limb on that bed
Where was the Christmas light?
When I was being fed, through a tube
I only hoped my fever
Would disappear before the yuletide visits
But the bullets dragged along
And gunned me down like forever
I bargained if my voice chords won’t allow
my long rehearsed voice to hum along the carols;
I wish my sleeping ears would wake me up
to the sweet Christmas songs.
I didn’t mean
To suspend you my loved ones
from the celebration,
You were here by my side
When I needed you the most.
One of my greatest motivations, I live with inside.
For this reason, I felt all wasn’t lost.
It shows in my life
That people need me in both good and bad times.
When I had nothing
Hearts were willing to walk with me
in my wretched state.
This to me was my first special Christmas on earth.
A Minute to Christmas
*****
I stand as an imperfect man
adorned in human weakness,
so hard to grasp in me:
comfort!
Then, a dream came and said I can
and unraveled the subtle
Power all rested on my willingness
[not on my weakness]
in acceptance of my true identity.
I’m just…
Mortal
Fallible
Weak
“Hark, hark my gentle soul”