Categories
Nature Pastoral Poetry

Little Frog

image

Oh little looking weebly-woobly Frog
Jumping about on a quiet blue lake
Dob-wob, Dob-wob‘, it croaked into evening
Calling to all nature’s big and small,
For some short but lively weebly-woobly dance

Start your blog today.


Image provided by Mary Grace M. Salomes, MGMS.

I decided to write a short piece for children. My friend, Mary from The Philippines had long taught her neighborhood children this poem.

Categories
Nature Poetry

Dance in the Rain

Let’s dance in the rain
Throw our worries to the wind
Raise your hands
And dodge my water blow,
Gather the rain water
Return my punch
Let this flow turn to dance

When clouds gather
That’s a great sign-
It must be the rain!
Or the comely evening
But let’s wait,
If it’s the rain’s herald
Will you dance with me?

Now the wind has come
Flirty-distracting breeze
First drop and another,
A little storm and showers
Yet, I’m King of the rain fight
And I’ll make you my Queen
If you would dance with me

Categories
Uncategorized

Granny’s Compound by ‘Jindu Iroegbu

Here’s another painting from ‘Jindu, my little brother. He’s amateur but I see talent.

This one is named “Granny’s Compound.” He explains why: “Whenever we were at Granny’s place, we had fun and played under the trees. Granny’s place is small but her heart is big, she accepted everyone.” Granny’s Compound was a melting pot, people came to her for advice and provisions and she shared the little she had. God bless her soul.

It takes imagination and creativity to come up with this and I love the simplicity.

Categories
Uncategorized

Wild Colors

Sweet and wonderful are smell of dry air in the breezy and solitary open
LIke that of bread soaked in margarine, quasi burned in the oven

The taste is remindful of romantic acquaintances hewn to fields of Roses
Stretched afar, to where the lands open to other lands of colors and scents

The fineness of delicious scents, nose-alluring grow with the passing wind
The signal it passes undiluted, without mix of any kind, unpurified

Sometimes these scents come from the forsaken wild,
From dusts, pushed about by the browned roadside

Lonely nights come with these memories of pretty smells
Designed, packaged and yet revealed by Nature to all

Categories
Africa culture/tradition

The Lion King, with short video

When you hear of Africa, what comes to your mind? Forests and Kingdoms, Lions and Elephants, Happy and sad people?

I decided to share a live performance of the song ‘He lives in me’ from the movie Lion King, to show the artistry, talent and creativity that exists in Africa. Africans in the music and movie industry are doing very well.

As a kid, I enjoyed watching the Lion King. The movie promoted African culture and heritage. It also taught that power can be blinding (is that not the norm in Africa’s leadership today?)

So if you haven’t seen the movie yet, try to and remember that Hakuna Matata is the best philosophy.

Categories
Poetry

Love enough for me

Glittering,

You shone in the sun

That is love enough for me

Categories
Poetry

You hold the Winds

You hold the Winds

In Your great hands!

For from away we see her toil

As she sail above grass and soil

With swift sweet airs she bless

Earth that is brown and the green grass

Heavenly airs bless each new day

When we kneel to pray

Categories
Uncategorized

Art of the Mind

Colors are exotic, beautiful when they are seen and ‘felt’
Shadows- shades, the blue skies and the sun when she set
Wandering bees, yellow and black buzzing about
The black wasp making holes by the wood post

Camels stand like mad men who either forgot themselves or their ways
On the sands, come views of mixed soft silt and reddish clay
The dungs of stray animals, the boar which found solace in waters lay
All constituting strange hues, so also are the beautiful or hateful words we say

The light, solemn sweet aura of the oceans blue
As the white waves rise and fall into the bluish hue
See the wheat fields, the sun flowers happy gold
When cut and in dark evenings of the market be sold

Trains horn and cockcroach thru hidden grey tunnels and hills
The farmers gather the browned seeds into the huge farm mill
And all these while the memories of colors pass on a sweet feel
Never to be forgotten, but for moments which stand not to be seen