Best Nicholas Poems
The joy of birth, the growing up,
leads us to adore our lovely babies.
But not, alas, without the toils of life.
Because we experience a lack of sleep,
contend with baby vomit,
or idiotically putting on his boxer shorts
completely the wrong way around.
Yet all is part of being loving
to a newborn child. Sometimes
I get the weird, unworldly feeling
that I'm the worst grandpa of all.
Perhaps it's just that I'm getting old.
Try lifting the chubby scamp a little while
and oh my poor back simply aches.
And if he cries I must find out
what ails the urchin, my dearest pet.
A dirty nappy? Someone take care,
mother or granny, it's their job I'm afraid.
But if it's a bottle of milk he wants,
or nibbling a few small pieces of cereal,
then I am game. Bring on the glorious food.
And when he sleeps, I'm just in heaven,
contemplating the profound miracle of life.
For though he's not directly mine,
he's the continuation of my genetic line.
And so I worry if he coughs or wheezes,
or falls whilst crawling, adding to his bruises.
Awake he's smiling, a gurgling bundle of joy
that makes me proud, he's Nicholas my boy.
NB Nicholas, my grandson, is now 18 years old, studying dentistry at University (first in class) and has a driver's licence too.
Like dew on a rose blade you surface me,
like amber and honey, I complete you-
As I’m a b l o s s o m on your cherry tree,
we bloom and flourish with a yellow hue,
with shades of crimson and indigo blue.
Sweet cupid and his arrow hinged our love,
pink c o n f e t t i hearts and a gentle dove.
Take my heart, dear man, please say you’ll be mine-
Vows will be sworn under the Lord above,
beloved Nicholas, MY VALENTINE.
Like a tide on a beach you engulf me,
like a reverie’s flow you sure cascade-
You’ll be A r e s, I’ll be A p h r o d i t e,
true love in the making shall never fade,
for your soul is the reason mine was made.
Dear Lord released passion piercing you,
craving under the sheets as lover’s do.
No kiss I’ve felt, ever been so divine-
No fairytale has ever been so true,
beloved Nicholas, MY VALENTINE.
Form: DIZAIN
10 lines with 10 syllables in each line
Rhyme Scheme: A-B-A-B-B-C-C-D-C-D
January 9, 2017
Jolly Old St. Nicholas
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Candy Canes and Christmas Cheer
With a fuss, children line up, and wait to get near
To look deep into Jolly Old St. Nicholas eyes
Quietly, and from the depths of their hearts
They sit on his lap and whisper in his ear
Their favorite toy they want for Christmas
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Candy Canes and Christmas Cheer
Overjoyed with great big dreams and hope
Children sigh, Please, Jolly Old St. Nicholas
Are the elves focus and hard at work
Working around the clock
We've been very good this year
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Candy Canes and Christmas Cheer
Through the eyes of children goodness
Jolly Old St. Nicholas a giver of gifts
Keeping the spirit of Christmas alive
For some a trust of faith and a symbol of hope
For others joy, Christmas trees, and toys
Ho! Ho! Ho!
Candy Canes and Christmas Cheer
Wise Jolly Old St. Nicholas is on his way here
11/29/2015
Children Story
Jolly Old St. Nicholas, grey hair, baldy man
A jingle with a twisted cane, see me if you can
Silver long haired beard, red nose, rosy golden cheeks
Giddy-up old St. Nicholas, won't you hurry please!
When the clock strikes twelve pm, on a darkest night
Driving the lonely streets, please turn on your lights.
My big house is decorated, wreaths and ornaments too,
May your blessings come your way, all your dreams come true
Bronson wants a pair of shoes, Brandy wants a shirt
As for me, you know what I want, hope he's not a flirt.
Jolly old St. Nicholas, send me a nice young man
I don't want to be no fool, just to hold someone's hand.
St. Nicholas was a right merry ol’ soul
Making children happy was his entire life's goal,
With a pack full of toys
For all good girls and boys
For centuries, his dedication we extol.
Written November 27, 2022
There's a little bit of St. Nicholas in all of us…
Most of us will never ride on a flying sled
Led by nine reindeer, one with a "nose so red"
And most of us will never go all around the world
In just one night with gifts for every boy and girl
But we all want this time of year to be
A happy holiday for little ones to see
There's a little bit of St. Nicholas
In all of us each year
And it's all because we are Santa Claus
To all we hold so dear
So in the Spirit of Christmas love
Let us share this season's cheer
With everyone like a newborn Son
In the Nick of time this year (Chorus)
Most of us may never jingle bells dressed in red
For spare change so others can be sheltered, clothed and fed
And most of us may never visit the needy overseas
Or spend hours with our neighbors or the least of these
But let's give to those who ask and show charity
To the poor and lonely, and the young and old that be
Without necessities of life within longings of love
So they will believe in what they're dreaming of
And receive what they need and more than enough
So that they too can be a little like St. Nicholas
(Chorus)
Oh, Christmas should be...
all snow and sweet carols!
And I would need four reindeers to carry me
wherever I like to be...
listening to the clinking snowy bells
and happily shouting, "Merry Christmas! " to everyone I joyfully meet
at every door that's never without a wreath;
and through a decorated, foggy window spot the Yule log ready to be lit!
All the frenzied bells are jingling,
as my rosy cheeks are dimpling;
you can mistaken me for that jolly old Saint Nicholas
and hear that friendly voice never changing its tone,
but who else can bring those children:
many smiles and lots of toys?
All snow and sweet carols
is the only wish of my Yule season;
and do you have a wish
that you like to come true right now?
Imagine it, or say it aloud;
let me hear it in your happy sound:
use a trumpet, a clarinet or guitar...
and finally make that change within!
In travelling the big Globe:
I see too much sorrow, no hands that pray;
people feel no love and won't put hatred aside!
Many refuse to be kind: to open hearts and minds
to share this wonderful, sacred day
with the true spirit of the Christmas joy!
Should I remind everyone that it should be:
all snow and sweet carols?
My prince, hold your poetry close,
for it shall keep you company.
It will bring you beautiful serenity.
Locked away in the castle of your mind,
I will continue to climb.
Your fingertips
caress my lips
And heavy breaths
amuse my neck
Our tongues dance
wet and twisted
My hair in your hands
tense and tightfisted
Your arms wrap around me
and you pull me close
Skin on skin
we start to roast
Now hot and sweaty
you push me away
My flesh is burning
is all you can say
We lay apart
though not for long
My hand finds yours
where it belongs
Sadness, overwhelming, to come to grips
with such an unpleasant reality
such as this.
To realize, my prince, I was not
your first wish, albeit your first kiss.
I should be sadder, I admit, but it's no surprise
to me, I am not the first to gaze lovingly into
your olive green eyes.
Who's the big fat reddest suit
the children shout excited.
Who'll take presents from his bag
and hand them proof enlighted.
Who shouts ho
fat ho fat ho
Laughs for children
brash and brough.
Cracks the whip of Christmas Spirit
Beckons kids to sit and stare at.
Fuels the weir for Christmas wishes.
and calls communion Saint Nick Merrit.
JOLLY OLD SAINT NICHOLAS
The building is imposing and fearful, a death row,
it is heritage, but haunted and very creepy;
the gallows still remain and hundreds of unmarked graves.
But, knowing all this- I took a dare on HALLOWEEN . . .
I went to my bunk in a dark cell with no windows,
falling asleep, I dreamt I was being touched by hands;
and SCREAMED- I saw a man walking slow and I followed.
H e l l o . . . ! He opened a door and stepped through, I did too-
It was dark, water dripped, then I saw the man hanging,
his neck broken, his eyes bulged and his mouth was smiling;
decomposed dead are crawling on the floor and walls.
I am fighting when hands tie the noose- my body drops . . .
In the mental ward- hands hang me each night as I fight.
___________________________
October 7, 2017
Poetry/Free Verse/ Nicholas Street Jail
Copyright Protected, ID 17-9477-06-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the Halloween Scare Contest
sponsor, Russell Sivey
Second Place
A little girl said to her mother one day
"Santa's not real, that's what my friends say"
Her tears welled up and she started to cry
And said" Is he real or is it a lie ?".
Her mom was shocked that she had been put to the test
And decided telling the truth would be for the best
She thought for a moment then said carefully
"Santa's spirit is real, as real as can be".
"He lived in Myra by the Aegean sea
It used to be Greece but now is Turkey
He left this life a long time ago
But not his spirit, that continues to grow".
"His name was Bishop Nicholas and wore robes of red
Was wealthy, helped the poor and made sure they were fed
He did things in secret whilst they slept in their bed
And soon people got to know about the bishop in red".
"Something else about him that people don't know
Was he came from a hot country and it didn't snow
But the story grew bigger over the years
Snow, elves and sleigh added along with reindeers".
"All over the world little girls and boys
Wake up Christmas day to lots of new toys
And everyone says that Santa has been
Presents are left but he's never seen".
"Parents leave presents under the tree
But Santa guides them with his legacy
They do it for you out of kindness and love
Under the watchful eye of Santa above".
"Santa's spirit is alive, it's certainly not dead
The world's full of people like the bishop in red
Doing good for mankind, animals as well
When you next see your friends, this story do tell".
The little girl cheered up, kissed her mom and said
"I too want to be like the bishop in red"
"When I grow up, like Santa I'll be
Helping the poor and the needy".
Just like Nicholas who performed those good deeds
Helping the less fortunate, seeing to their needs
So when you venture out help someone if you can
Be it an animal a child, woman or man.
Merry Christmas.
Written 13th December 2017
Writing Challenge - December, 2019 - I want Christmas Poems - Poetry Contest.
Sponsored By Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode.
As I walk through the door, none looks my way
I was never important, not that many would say
I stand in the corner but nobody sees me
I speak but none turn, it’s the way it’s supposed to be.
The world looks different from the one’s I had seen
The evil still abounds, repeated daily, a bad scene
I speak but none even turns my way, Am I here?
A child comes to me his hand raised, in his eyes there are tears.
All this pain this sorrow, what the purpose can be
Hate, evil doing, never ceases to amaze me
More children come they pull at my hand
I gaze at the innocence and I understand
They smile and they laugh but others see us not
And yet the celebrations go on, but they all have forgot
I am here for them, all, the unhappy, unloved and deceased
They called me St Nicholas, but only think of the feast.
They made me a saint in the centuries long gone
Over prisoner’s and sailor’s and children every one
No one remembers except for the gifts on one day
But I looked after all, they made me this way
Nobody gives me a thought through out the year
But I collect all the children and wipe away their tears
We are the happy ones they all know to come to me
Not only on one day but through out the year you see.
There are stories and legends formed over the years
But if the belief were strong there would be fewer tears
I am the patron saint of so many causes
I am the man behind all the Santa clauses.
But remember my mission was to offer help to the needy
Not to feed all the senses of those that are greedy.
Remember I stand here, but no one sees me
I’m not given a thought, until they bring in the tree.
But I tried in my life to help those needy and wanting
Those that beatified me gave me a task that is daunting.
From the sailors to the innocent and all the children in fear
If you believe in me or not my I wish you a happy new year.
© ~GG~16/12/2012
Marianne Moore 'SAINT NICHOLAS'
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