Soul of Poetry

” Poetry haunts my soul
Poetry flies thru the thickets,
On a hot desert drive
Daring the mamba to come dance
With the cunny hawks hovering the sky”

Masked tribesmen bother the Lions sleep, huuthuut- hututu
Down the thickets of the bushland strange music of the birds play

They sing, they say…

Wai-oo, wai-oo take me home, fly away

Songs of happy children, rendition of a thousand bullfrogs
The choir of Natures solemnity, grace the quiet darkness

Meanwhile the shepherds sleep, the nights waste

Man, flora, fauna and spirits, all try to rest

To lands tucked away in far places, where the cultures differ
Stay ladies who dance with hands on their slim waists

They swirl, they turn, all in fine haste

To make fun, they laugh at the mens restlessness…

By Oke Iroegbu

Finance Graduate, Bibliophile and Bard of Ovim, his hometown. Read more at

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.