Tag: lullaby

Lullaby: Night Rain

Light rain, mild breeze, magnificent shower, Like the faint drums that usher in the noble, Faded lightning, a plethora of tiny drops Those that drench the backyard every night

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Distract me with love – Poetry

Tell me an amusing story One that drives sorrows away Laugh at me or with me Sing a song, hum a slow lullaby Pull my ears and call me names Let’s ride on a train to Utopia Grab my hands let’s elope To fields wild as a writer’s mind Call my name, bring me back… Continue reading Distract me with love – Poetry

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Lullaby: Sing for me a Lullaby

Sing for me dear nightingale Gather your host of voices Rant through the early night Tweet away joyfully from heart Let my ears quiver from your song Let frogs and crickets listen to it To respond with their baritone Sing for the sweet nectar For red roses and hibiscus And the traveling sunlight Tell the… Continue reading Lullaby: Sing for me a Lullaby

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Rain drops on the Glass

I love the sound of rain when it hit my windowsWhen multitude of rain drops descend from the sky, Splattering, crushing the Earth’s crust, moulding her clay, Throwing up sweet scents, one unaccustomed to man The beats create a regular rhythm that may turn to a song, Caressing window panes, pushing mild airs upon them,… Continue reading Rain drops on the Glass

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Lullaby: Tale of the young Shepherdess

I will tell you a rhyme of the shepherdess who loved her sheep, She lives in the country and could sing her community to sleep Twinkle went stars nested far up the pregnant black sky, When black clouds float, the gathering rain storm sigh, “It will rain, but it might wait a little,” the young… Continue reading Lullaby: Tale of the young Shepherdess

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Night rain

Now it rains heavily with thunder, And with cold, her breezy messenger, I watch the rain fall from my window, Fast, soft drops crash into glass panes This heavy rain ploughed, and sow, Her lullabic seeds across my land, Soft, sweet breezes reign with her Battling a stranger for his umbrella, In pitch darkness cover,… Continue reading Night rain

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Another Evening Storm with the Rainmaker

… And there’s another rainstorm brewing over this town tonight. Out in the cold street, light bulbs glow here and there, but meshed in grim embrace of darkness itself. I feel the wind lick the skin on my forearm when I hold the curtain to see the rainstorm. There’s a strange but sweet smell, of… Continue reading Another Evening Storm with the Rainmaker

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Reflection: Rainy Evening

I used to think I was a rainmaker, but there’s one heavy storm out there, and I’m scared of it—a distraction for me, though, which I love. Recently, I worried so much about nothing. I wondered if the world would ever be the same again after Covid-19. But my faith will not worry at all.… Continue reading Reflection: Rainy Evening

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Rain!

Guess what! Heaven’s tummy is rumbling! There’s some comfort from Heaven finally! It’s been hot since weekend, coupled with the Covid-19 issue, life has been solitary. Now it’s raining heavily outside! I’m seconds away from dancing in it but the lightning is frightening. I smell the wet dust. I’m sure mushrooms will visit tomorrow, haha.… Continue reading Rain!

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Folklore: The Straw, the Coal and the Bean from Gutenberg Project

In a village dwelt a poor old woman, who had gathered together a dish of beans and wanted to cook them. So she made a fire on her hearth and that it might burn the quicker, she lighted it with a handful of straw. When she was emptying the beans into the pan, one dropped… Continue reading Folklore: The Straw, the Coal and the Bean from Gutenberg Project

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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,… Continue reading African morning

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The Goose that laid the Golden Egg

You may agree with me that evenings are best for story telling. In Africa, evenings are valuable family time. Dinner or sitouts allow time to reflect on the days work: achievements and disappointments, and to tell tales. Tales don’t just act as lullabies but convey moral virtues (and vices) as well. Now when a story… Continue reading The Goose that laid the Golden Egg

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African Folktale: the Crows and the Cuckoo

It is evening here and I feel like telling you a story. Bring your mat, come sit with me outside, by the fireside and let us enjoy the night breeze. Once upon a time there lived a set of Crows which plundered farms. Each day the farmers try to catch the Crows to no avail,… Continue reading African Folktale: the Crows and the Cuckoo

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Lullaby: Decembers’ rain

Fast falls the evening, mild breezes, cold rain, rinsing the dusty roof tops Dark clouds shadow the moon, the evening is left to wander alone,  Trees bow to the swift wind; bending, twisting; left and right But the night was agog with life, the breezes an excuse for heavy sleepers A week before the heat… Continue reading Lullaby: Decembers’ rain

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When the humble evening quarreled with the travelling day
It turned out not to be wise, for the aftermath brought grim dismay

The aftermath, a heavy storm came riding on her way
She pulled stuff along, anything that went astray

Tearing, pushing against the curtained doors and windows
Flirting with the wind, so that the candlelights danced without care
First it seemed all will go upside down, like a swirling tornado
But as the storm came the streets got littered like the Lions lair

Windy airs ghost around, bound to the East or is it West?
Daring to tumble, to take on all that lay on her fiery path
The mildness of each burst of air, a reminder that the night is set
And that airs like the ones of the sea brought tidings as sooth

Now sweet breezes and mild whistling from the Pines nearby
Class out a host of unseen voices which sang a melodious lullaby

Another evening, another night
The day is gone fast asleep
All about is darkness, moonless
Safe from stars, up and white
Which shone upon the sheep
And upon the Shepherds stress

Always, it is airy in the country
The folklore is the peoples joy
Now and then, the bard came
For boys and girls, it was night of stories
To the children, a night with playful toys
And in the mornings, all will never be the same

The shepherd lay quietly on a soft bed of feathers
Counting the stars that glitter before his eyes
Listening to the sound of the dancing wind
And to the snore of his neighnor, the oat farmer
He lets the queer lullaby play, finding a smile
For soon, a touch of sleep came descending

Shadows
Fall behind the mud huts
They paint soulful images,
Like the web tent of a black widow
Hanging like a carefree skeleton
And the brown stains from hands
Old or fresh which design the walls

Silhouettes
Fall behind the palm trees
They draw strange figures,
One like the village masquerade
which dance heartily on happy festivals
The other like the mad man
who travelled all about the hamlet

The sun travel home after the days work
And all we have become is an airy evening

THE NIGHT
The night is full of fresh air
One which come with the wind
Talking of the Wind, she is irresistable
Sweetly, comely to the flesh of men
And a quick aid to the lullaby’s effort

RAIN
It seem it will pour heavily, sometime later
For the Lightning had come to snap pictures
Of the Earth and the men that dwell therein
And if it won’t rain, maybe the wind will go
Just maybe…

THE NIGHT SONG
The several songs of the night now come up
‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star!’ How I wonder…
The ceaseless episode of the wailing bull frogs
And the fire bugs and warm crickets wake
Night birds; bats, owls and the rest
The hundreds of night voices unseen:
The wolves in the fields
The hovering mantis
The insects, the hogs
The things that walk the night
Gross and fair, thin and huge
Small and great, hideous and free
All in local unison sing a song like the choir
And rest on the night for their cover and shield

THE CHIMNEY
Down the chimney, a lot of drama unfold
The tongues of fire lick the woods quietly
The smoke move like a puff of air, rising into the air
And on the chimney lay a wake of dust, coal and soot

Have you ever been on the pathway to sleep
And all you could see was circles
spiralling
twisting and falling like mild paintings
on the wall?

Strange as it seem…
The queer songs of the night
come alife
the sweet tune of the frog choir across the road
where the rain water log…
And the treble voices of the cricket clan
play a wonderful track, which accustomed to the night
brought some relieve and some (sooth?)

The night throws a black blanket
over the tired earth
From a window, yawns filter in
there are other activities…
Nothing to interupt a well deserved sleep

Good night, sleep tight
May Gods angels keep you safe

Darkness falls…

The cries of night wolves and wild dogs
Rent the airs far away deep in the forest
The wind grew milder, the moon light brighter
And the sweet lullabies ring out from homes
A tradition, one which the little ones adore
The evening simmer into a deep darkness
As the African tales went on, on bedsides

So went the day, in this quiet hamlet

Once upon a time…
It was a night of bitter cold
And snowy storms gathered,
The weight of snow lay thick
Upon tree leaves and branches
The slopes wore a sore face
For the ice cold winter air
Was so cruel to the night
The little lake was half frozen
And the ducks flew away
To vacations in other lands
The moon was quite bitten too
For she went pale with each burst
Of the ice cold wind
And the animals suffered frostbites

Several snow balls raced down
From the clouds, falling in circles
With the wind blowing them off
Swinging about like the dance of the flame
Upon a straight candle…
The Ice King stood motionless
Admiring the triangular Mountain
Which stood at the edge of the forest
Birds came to lack their songs and voices
For the moisture on their beaks was gone…
Gone with the freezing hands of the Night
The squirrels and hamsters stay huddled
Waiting for the morn, for the sun to rise
But the Night was way too young to go
So in mockery, she teased her inhabitants
The deer, the moose, the doves and the owl
No one was bold enough to walk the night
Even the trees on the forest wished for a citadel
It was severely cold; terribly, ferociously cold!
The wolf pack came bounding in from the hunt
Eyes red like the smoking sulphur, hungry and bent
Under the tree shed, just beneath the tree roots
The rats burrow, seeking the dark earth to warm up
Partially avoiding the new arrivals, the wolf pack
For they were rude and ruthless like the cold night
‘I wonder why the Night is at her worst tonight’
The leader of the wolf pack began with a sniff
‘See! I can’t even feel my fur, it is terribly sinister’
Another wolf called out to the hungry pack
‘Maybe the Night is heartbroken, can’t you see?’
The ferns that grow by the tree roots said
‘Or yet the Night is wooing the heartless Mountain
With her face turned to the east of the forest’
The turtle dove on the tree branch offered
‘I agree totally with you’ a dark Cricket quipped
‘Nonsense! I say she is confused, absolutely confused!
How can she ever love with such coldness?
How can she be heart broken and punish others with her pain?
I say she is a confused person, and so she is!’
The leader of the wolf pack suggested, angrily
‘As for me, it is not adequate enough to conclude why,
But pain and love can also cause persons to grow cold’
The philosophical woodpecker reasoned

When the night shroud falls across the land
The stars glitter like the tip of a witchs wand
The moon wakes to the tune of the crickets
And the people dress themselves into jackets

The windows creak with each push of the air
The mighty wind just came with her wares
To the dark clouds, a streak of lightning shine
And the tall Whistling Pines set to whine

On the rooftops, the vampire bats congregate
For any stray insect and rodent they quietly wait
The moon light gave her fluorescent light
While the surging wind swept the hamlet

The nights are like firecrackers
To the sweet dreams of a laborer
The sweet recall of the days work
Come back to one as in a snore

Once again, to the warm bed we will retire
To count glowing fire bugs of the quiet night,
And all those beings that litter the dark firmament
A time for some joyful carnival and amusement

Tap tap tap tap…
The first drops fall,
Look up, and see a battalion
Rushing down in haste
Scattering in multitudes,
Causing ‘chaos’ to the city
Splashing happily, joyfully
Upon all who dare stand before it

The night rains are nice
When they come with the wind-
With a very strong wind
It made my curtains dance mad,
Throwing up stray papers
And wooing my candlelight
Which drew a shadow on the wall…

Light are the rains upon the roof
Falling like a thousand little drumbeats
Smacking away, thoroughly the roofpans
Drawing nearer the sweet echos of sleep
Throwing rain drops on my window glass
And training the fatigued to acts of slumber

Like the Qasaqasa drums their beats fall
The rooftops tremble with those touches
Millions of them, hitting the roof tops
I am left to greatly wonder
Why the Rains drums are milder
The Winds feel on the skin softer,
Even as the raindrops fall and scatter
And throwing into our pots clean water
Straight from Heavens store house!

Dear diary,
Night falls now…

The city is quiet
Save from toads
Out in the field
And wild crickets
Hiding on the walls

The distinct noises
Of a quarelling couple
Disturb my thoughts
Down on this bed,
I count the days work

There were strange clouds
Up the clouds today
There were tales in my mind
And a quiet time…
Each in different times

Brick walls of school
Playful kids all about
But hey, maths is important
So you must pay attention
Pythagoras, Guassian, Boyle

Books…
There’s a pile on my bed
ODM, Igbo bible, NIV, etc
Teachers Math guide, hmm
A feel of mental work

The streets…
And from the window
The bean-ball vendor
Hawk her products
Nothing really changed

The bank…
Fidelity, we keep our words
Okay oo, I heard you
Then: Have a nice day!
They shout after me

Okay, Teevee…
Flipping the channels
BBC, Brexit, Aljazeera, EU
Obama, Buhari, Ali, Trump
France, Syria, Biafra, Venezuela

Food…
Pick of cracker biscuits
Vit. C, Iodine, peppery soup
Some heavy carbohydrates
And a taste of garlic

The streets busybodies…
They stare always all times
Like very seriously?
You do see me pass
Thru here always, don’t ya?

And street again…
Went strolling and visiting,
Fascinated by the peace in me
Even though the world
Seem to fall slowly apart…

I wonder
What our world
Is fast becoming,
And why kids die in vain
While nations watch war films

But now I recall all
And hope for a better tomorrow
As I retire for the day!

The clouds gather
And in her wake
The evening turned black
Clouds gather above the sky
As light showers try to descend,
The showers fall on the clay
As beautiful humid smell arise

The clouds gather
Above the little town
She wakes the lightning
And all evening
The lightning took shots
Of the warm wetlands
Sending a cold surge of air
Flinging stray papers and silt
And making dresses dance
But all men must retire
For fear of the coming storm
And the asunder it brings

The night fades slowly
Cloak of darkness fall
As the crickets prepare
For another night song
Bonfires lit the night
To keep the wild dogs off
The children set the stage
For a moon light folktale
And beneath the stars
The small hamlet waits

“Come, come closer…
Keep your palms on mine
Look into my eyes
See how much you mean to me”

1
Come and feel my steel shine
Call me your gladiator
Your defender, your shield, your man
I am your shepherd

2
Have you seen my birds cackle?
Call me your farmer
I will press the Olives into your palms.
I shail help your dreams grow

3
Come and see my musings
I am your mouthpiece, your pencil
I will sing with my croaky voice
All night a lullaby will be, by the fireside

4
Come be by my side
I am your lover, and your my lover
We will make this companionship work
I am your friend, made just for you

The grey moon smiles always
And to know that he sleeps all day
Looks absurd, but that is his little way
He is not strange, not unkind and not gay
But his manners leaves us with nought to say

“Oh goodness it rains!
The windows clap about
And the curtains dance
To the wooing songs
Of the sweet airy Night”

And I can feel the rain drops through the window
And the smell of the new rain upon the dusty roof
The curtains blow up and down my weary face
All is cold, all is warm, all is truly entertaining
Oh, lullaby; mother Natures’ drum keep playing…

What sweet sleep the shepherd observes
For the Days toil has come and gone
And I upon my bed listens to a song
Which no voice or choir can ever sing

But to my bed sitted by the window
I lay bare-chested tossing about
From one end of this cold bed
To the other side by the window
On this beautiful rainy night
One of blessed airs and wild winds
Tuning in high pitches, sweet rendition;
A lullaby I can not find elsewhere…

I must say a good night to you all,
Oke Iroegbu

Now let’s have some evening breeze
And with it let a tale about it be told
Always the night is cold but noisy
Creatures of the dark and creepy places
Move about, bothering the peace of men
The sounds of the night is strange
But to some, it is a great acquaintance
A reunion of two different worlds
One, the quiet and the other, the unquiet

The Night plays several lullabic songs
She is skilled with the strings of music
The sides of her mouth sings gaiely
She wakes the black and brown crickets
Letting the streams of queer music flow
Unified beats and rhythms of the night
With the spectators watching, the stars
And their grey solitary cousin. the moon
Watching the procession of quiet hymns

Nature stay smiling upon her providence
The drama that unfolds when man watch her
Mother Nature plays the strings of my heart
She sings in a sweet alto voice, confusing me
And with her fine soothing breezy touch
She plays her fingers upon my hairy arms
Like the soft caressing skin of a snakes velvet
She lays by my side to whisper her tunes
Cupping her hands into my long ears

Frankly, the bed is the best thing ever
To happen to a shepherd or a farmer
For it had been a long and hectic day
Though he had little naps along the way
The wailings of the young ram and goats
Disturbs his sleep; he swerves, he waits
He leans forward, allowing his ear to pick up strange noises
For a stray fox, allowing the tip-off to come with the breezes
And when the roosters call out to him
It comes like a blessed sunday hymn
A rendition, a call he has grown up with
And now he can decipher all with his wit

When morning came and the sun arose
He also rises, even as the early cold wind blow
Reaching for a nice and warm silk cloth;
Off he goes, marching away from his tent
Towards the farmstead, which he loved
And muttering to himself, he solemnly prayed
Wishing the flock well, and hoping for a better day ahead
Greeting the flock, he wanders in steps calm but bold

And each time, his joyful smiles know no bounds at the sight of his fine flock
Grazing at the lower vales, with a pond before him and a family of waddling ducks

Crickets are my best insects
But why? I know not
They stay under my bed
And cry out till I have an ache up my head
But what they say also I know not
Though I think they talk about broth
Wonder why little insects
Grow even beer intent
They growl, some bark
And all these come to my back
‘Stop’ I would shout
‘No way, you are talking to yourself’
I wonder if they cared if I was asleep
‘Who does he even think he is?’
They squeak behind my hearing
Not knowing my elfy ears pick all
‘Yaaay! Let’s shriek more!!!’
They stubbornly seem to say
When they seem to hear me snore
Come what happens or may
The shrieks and strange crickety talks
Come to me as disturbing lullaby

Now I will be your cook tonight
Tell me what you desire most
Anything, rice, pies or Turkish delight?

Now I will be a carpenter, why not?
To mend the boards and all things
Do good, get me my hammer and mallet

Now I will be a stone, nay a rock
You can call me the rock if you dont mind
And the heads of foes we would break

Now I desire to say a lullaby
Ba ba bo, ba ba bo, ba ba bo bo bo
Oh the rhymes I seem to forget dear lady…

Now a funny tale is told, thank God!
A tale teller I do dream to become
Tho I, a wild, fun, food-loving dude

Lullaby

I will write a poem for you tonight Close your eyes and let your head rest Lay close to me and listen to my tale Do you feel the breezes shove our hair? The Fireplace refuses to loose out on the tale There’s only one explanation of this A light rain will help strike a… Continue reading Lullaby

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Lullaby

I will write a poem for you tonight Close your eyes and let your head rest Lay close to me and listen to my tale Do you feel the breezes shove our hair? The Fireplace refuses to loose out on the tale There’s only one explanation of this A light rain will help strike a… Continue reading Lullaby

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