African morning

In the morning the mild golden sun rise above the huts and hills
Painting the corn fields yellow and making the streams shimmer
Upon flowing rivers it glitters, till the dead end below a tree root
Big fishes stay ready to strafe up to pick insects off tree barks

In the hamlets, dogs chased cats, children played here and there
Men and boys went towards the great forests beyond the hills
To check hidden traps tucked away or tend to their farm needs
Girls pound yams, making dishes with bush meat from hunters

In the evenings, children and elderlies gather to hear night tales
When the moon light shine and the airs are soothingly mild
Everyone who wished to hear the tale of the night gather for it
And when it is told, even before the tales end many bent snoring…