Musing

When you sing, it seemed you were crying
The darks corner stays
A quiet night, one of singing
Let the warmth of the song light my ways

The hot sun of these times
The winds of the blessed clouds
The Harmattan with her garments
All driving about in her chariots

When you wake the next morning
I see a cuter face
Staring, pouting, loving
Oh how nice, my brace

The cold nights are here again
Xmas and her fun
Of blowing airs, eyes full of sand grains
A night of the day Christ was born