Songs of the night, sweet lullabies for the days toil
Messages from Heaven, refined touch of God’s goodness
Whistling from the neighboring pines and wide eyed owls
All call out to the quiet night, strange, quietly hopeful
Dreams are cut out on plates of wet marble
Left to dry out in the open sun, like some fairytale
Hopes of happy ever after, thoughts of great deeds
One bonded from Nature and love of God
I hear the wind howl through the gaps,
Through the minute holes which stayed in the walls
Pushing, hissing it went, pushing the books on my laps
Turning the pages without my consent, winning it all
The wind disturb the happy quiet night
Making the room look like a party hall
While I tried gathering my loose book pages
The curtain and the candle dance away, wildly
Stars won’t fall from the skies
Even though the wind sound heavy
Watch it, observe well with your eyes
For such nights seldom come rarely
1
Sprawled across a fertile land,
On a hill overlooking a quiet river
Where the rains come once in a while
And when it does, it is a fine luxury
Trees stand, here and there
Occurring once upon a place
Grasses are seldom seen, the sand most often
The palmwine* taste absolutely sweet
But in the mug we see dead drunk bees
2
The skies are blue; original, authentic
The river, flooded with the big rains
Quiet are the calm nights, cold mostly
But the early morning belongs to the sun
The people like everyone else, smileful
3
In the mornings, the children play on the sand
When there was no chores, or when all was boring
The noon; lazy, the sun bake away, tanning everyone
In the heat, everyone seek out a shed, a citadel
The evenings are mild, sometimes unnecessarily hot
Then scorpions will find their way out for some air
In the nights the dogs bark to disturb the peace
Making all wonder what they might have seen
And when these all merge, they produce a small village
One placed somewhere, where the moon shine bright
And the sun a steady member of the community!
Note: Tudun Amba is a suburb of the capital city of Lafia, Nasarawa state. I am currently residing in this ancient city of Northern Nigeria. The North of Nigeria is somewhat hotter than the South.
Palmwine: a tasty white African wine tapped from the Raffia palm and other special palm trees, consumed as a beverage or as alcohol when fermented.
I wondered if I said hello
If I would get a response
Thinking of you is all I do
Wait, listen to my heart call out to you
Listen to my unsung songs ask for a dance
Let me see your shy pout, this thing about you
And your fine eyes as they lovingly bounce
My words for you are plenty,
I could sing a whole century!
The words are not sweet enough
But I call you my hornets honey!
Rest my words for another blessed day
Rest on the mat which I put out on the clay
Let’s see this evening, just this once
When the sun rise, we shall find our way
Lonely stars filled the cloudy night
Crickets quizzed behind the rocks
But the lonely Shepherd stayed awake
Watching the glittering from the star light
Listening to the bleating of sheep, his lullabic songs
Sniffing wet and mild airs that came from the lake
He lays on his soft pillow of wool
Wrapping his arms about his slim self
And wandered off in a fine dream
…to a place where the skies are blue,
And the grasses, green, fine and straight
With flowers; red, pink, orange, cream
The morning welcomes a golden sunshine
The Shepherd prays, dines and leaves his tent
Through the hole in the barn door he tries to see,
Grinning at the sight of the sheep which was awoken
Quickly, he carefully descends into their midst
Waking the weak and nudging them lovingly
‘Wake, wake’ he calls out, the sheep knew his voice
And it came upon them, another day of feast had come
So in delight, the sheep bleat and head toward the forest
He picks one of his lambs, his favorite choice
Whistles, sighs and talks to the fine little lamb
Now when the day will go the Shepherd retires to rest
I find you fascinating with your smile,
The way your fine mouth curves,
The color of your simply big eyes
And the look you have when you laugh
I look away, to hopes which I keep
Yet dreams of You and I in the field
Disturb my quietness, my sleep.
Am I sad or glad, Am I possessed?
This I can not say, no one can say
Why the lonely solemn nights are quiet
Yet the next morning, the next day
I am awake, hopeful with my pen to flirt
I see the white clouds in the morning, I see Your beauty too
When the sunrises, I still see Your radiant face and love
Tossed about, is my big head
Weary from nothing, lazy mind
I took flight in the light wind
Wetting my eyes in the clouds
And the quietness was so loud
I slept, not sleep, reverie
Forgetting that I must eat
I woke, trying to be free
But even then I felt crazy
Nothing wants me to be
And to notice that my words
Were written from the back
So to my lonely bed, I retired
Clouds float, birds fly away
A family of rodents rush home
The airs dry, so ends the day
But the night was just starting
The wind quietly blow about
Trees welcome the disturbance
Heavens Providence, fine sun set
Happy times, sweet melodies
The dark parts of the firmament
Reminds of the travelling sun
Going, moving to where she sets
The grey lines, silver, punctual
We stand wondering where it sleeps
Why the breeze came without
Why strangely, we miss the sun’s help
But then that only is known to God
July,
Sweet breezes, mild rain
Nature’s healing tune,
The sun rise thru the hills
Painting the whole land gold
Dreamy feels of the poets will
Fall into circles, flatly bold
A happy morning comes, shy
Across the fine horizon
New beginnings beckon to the skies
When clouds flew to oblivion
Welcome July, Heavens gift
Send down your mild showers
Let our wishes high, be lifted
May God’s love help our desires
A new month is birthed
