Village boy Impressions

It was a beauteous night, dusty and cold  And we were all mum and droopy  Whilst the preacher droned on  And the rest of the world lived on  An expectant harmattan swirled around  As stemmed waters must feel bound  Yet gyrating as one tickled in erogenous places  On and on and on towards the climax  The cold outside threatened to come in  And we held our sweaters to ourselves  As we gazed at the clock ahead  Inching ever closer to the new year  Suddenly everyone’s tongue was loosed Everyone’s voice was lifted in praise And sang in generous grateful tones As we leapt in joyous ecstasy Turning round and about  We embraced and hugged and waved And with beamish smiles Hailed each in greeting..." Bein paali !*" Life and beauty poured out as at sunrise And my secret heart glowed with love And gratitude for life, family, friends Oh that the singing would never end! 17th January 2019 Accra. *Bein paali - Happy New year! You can also find this poem and other poe

It is almost midnight, 31 st December 2017. I am jumping and shouting in church with millions of others worldwide or at least in Ghana. Saying thanks to God for seeing me through the year 2017. After more than 30 minutes of jubilant praise, we settle down for the final blessing. As the priest raises the monstrance with the body of Christ to bless us, a lady beside me sighed and said: “At last we say goodbye to this horrible year”. I turned to look at her and realized she was breathing heavily, and sweating profusely from ecstatic dancing and shouting. I had just been doing the same thing and I was also breathless and feeling wet and sticky under my sweater. I had put on a sweater because I was afraid it would get cold as the night wore on in this harmattan season. Indeed, many others were dressed like me. Yes, we knew our weather well but we had underestimated how ecstatic and boisterous our celebration would be once the hour arrived. So, all the ceiling fans were in full swing and