I remember when Christmas felt like magic,
When the air itself seemed to hum with joy,
The streets dressed in sparkling lights,
And carolers sang songs we all knew by heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Those days, the world seemed to pause,
Shops filled with laughter, not just noise,
Neighbors exchanging gifts and smiles,
A season of giving, not just spending.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019d gather as a family, all of us there,
No excuses, no delays just love in the air.
Grandma\u2019s kitchen bursting with smells,
Of roasted chicken, chapati, and stories she\u2019d tell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The tree would stand tall, ornaments aglow,
Underneath, gifts wrapped in dreams and hope.
But it wasn\u2019t the presents that mattered most
It was the warmth of togetherness, the love we\u2019d toast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now, it feels… different.
Christmas seems hurried, a checklist to tick,
Lights still glitter, but something feels dim,
Like the heart of the season has worn thin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Families scattered, too busy to call,
Reunions postponed, or not planned at all.
The kitchen is quieter; the stories have faded,
And the joy we shared feels overstated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I miss those days, the simplicity, the care,
When Christmas meant more than what we\u2019d wear.
When time with loved ones was the greatest gift,
Not a message sent in a WhatsApp shift.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Oh, how I long for those Christmas eves,
The warmth of the fire at night during the eves.
When we sang, laughed, and stayed up late,
Sharing moments time could never replicate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This year, I\u2019ll try to bring it all back
The laughter, the love, the familial track.
Because Christmas isn\u2019t about what\u2019s new,
It\u2019s about the people who make it true.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I remember when Christmas felt like magic,When the air itself seemed to hum with joy,The streets dressed in sparkling lights,And carolers sang songs we all knew by heart. Those days, the world seemed to pause,Shops filled with laughter, not just noise,Neighbors exchanging gifts and smiles,A season of giving, not just spending. We\u2019d gather as a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2837,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[121,97],"tags":[35,49,34,67,50,61,55,53,22,48],"class_list":["post-2836","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poem","category-poetry","tag-poems","tag-poetess","tag-poetry","tag-preciousowoko","tag-spokenword","tag-spokenwords","tag-stories","tag-story","tag-walkingshadowpoetry","tag-walkingshadowpoetrykenya"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-3444345.jpg?fit=867%2C1300&ssl=1","jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":2910,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/us-by-walking-shadow-poetry\/","url_meta":{"origin":2836,"position":0},"title":"Us by walking shadow poetry.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"January 13, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"One... two... three... four... five.Five years of \"us\" in a world that says, \"love isn\u2019t real.\"But here we areStill standing, still smiling,Still choosing each other every single day. They said love would hurt,That it would break us,That we\u2019d be just another storyOf two people who couldn\u2019t make it.But look at\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "poem"","block_context":{"text":"poem","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poem\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"man and woman near grass field","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-1415131.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-1415131.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-1415131.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-1415131.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-1415131.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2749,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/the-wrong-train-by-walking-shadow-poetry\/","url_meta":{"origin":2836,"position":1},"title":"The Wrong Train by walking shadow poetry.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"October 9, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"I boarded a train called us,Excited for the journey,Hoping it would lead somewhere special.The ticket was my heart,And I gave it willingly,Not knowing how far we'd go. At first, it felt right,The laughs, the late-night talks,The promises that sounded like forever.But as the miles went by,The doubts crept in,Little signs\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "POETRY"","block_context":{"text":"POETRY","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poetry\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"train in railway","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/10\/pexels-photo-2790396.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/10\/pexels-photo-2790396.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/10\/pexels-photo-2790396.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/10\/pexels-photo-2790396.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/10\/pexels-photo-2790396.jpeg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2848,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/writing-our-stories-by-walking-shadow-poetry\/","url_meta":{"origin":2836,"position":2},"title":"Writing Our Stories by walking shadow poetry","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"December 5, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"We write our stories,Even when life throws storms our way.We take each struggle, each heartbreak,And turn them into chapters of resilience. Sometimes, the road feels lonely,And the weight of the world presses on our shoulders.So many have walked away,Leaving us to fight battles they didn\u2019t believe we\u2019d win.But here we\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "poem"","block_context":{"text":"poem","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poem\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"cultural tradition in vietnamese countryside","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-29535051.jpeg?fit=767%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-29535051.jpeg?fit=767%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-29535051.jpeg?fit=767%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/12\/pexels-photo-29535051.jpeg?fit=767%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2372,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/title-finding-love-against-all-odds\/","url_meta":{"origin":2836,"position":3},"title":"Title: Finding Love Against All Odds.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"June 21, 2024","format":false,"excerpt":"Grace had always believed in love. She grew up reading fairy tales and watching romantic movies, dreaming of finding her prince charming. However, reality was harsh. In every relationship she had been in, she was met with rejection. It started in high school, where her crush never seemed to notice\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "storytime"","block_context":{"text":"storytime","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/storytime\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"a couple in white dress standing in view of the mountain","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2917382.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2917382.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2917382.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/06\/pexels-photo-2917382.jpeg?fit=800%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":3151,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/i-still-miss-you-sister-by-walking-shadow-poetry\/","url_meta":{"origin":2836,"position":4},"title":"They Said Time Heals, But This Is What Really Helped by walking shadow poetry.","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"March 31, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"I wake up, but something feels off,Like a song without lyrics, a road lost in fog.The world still spins, the sun still shines,Yet deep in my heart, there's a crack in time. You were more than blood, more than a name,A sister, a friend, nothing feels the same.I reach for\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "poem"","block_context":{"text":"poem","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poem\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/IMG_2017-copy-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/IMG_2017-copy-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/IMG_2017-copy-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/IMG_2017-copy-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/03\/IMG_2017-copy-scaled.jpg?fit=1200%2C800&ssl=1&resize=1050%2C600 3x"},"classes":[]},{"id":3226,"url":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/they-promised-to-meet-againbut-death-came-first\/","url_meta":{"origin":2836,"position":5},"title":"They Promised to Meet Again\u2026But Death Came First","author":"walking shadow poetry kenya","date":"April 18, 2025","format":false,"excerpt":"I know death.Not as a stranger\u2026But as someone I\u2019ve met too many times along the road.And perhaps you\u2019ve met it too,not in a dramatic way,but in the quiet loss of familiar faces. Maybe you\u2019ve stood in class photos,grinning wide,not knowing that the person beside youwouldn\u2019t make it to the next\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "poem"","block_context":{"text":"poem","link":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/SPOKENWORDSandMODERNDAYPOETRY\/poem\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"a pillow and blanket on a grassy field","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-8609069.jpeg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-8609069.jpeg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-8609069.jpeg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/01\/pexels-photo-8609069.jpeg?fit=900%2C1200&ssl=1&resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2836","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2836"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2836\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2838,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2836\/revisions\/2838"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2837"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2836"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2836"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/walkingshadowpoetry.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2836"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}