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Poetry

Musing: The Ostrich

1

To you my feathery friend, I write

In the greying fields, your fur I sight

Dangling by your sides are your wings

Your neck is up, for a long time you sing

2

Caw caw, caw caw those are your favorite words

The wind is your friend, the soil is your playground

The shrub is your hideout, to it you run for safety

Your legs are very strong, your claws are even deadly

3

In the evenings, the farm fields are your runway

You send stray rats and rodents scampering away

I am not ashamed of you having a bard head

But you my fluffy friend, you are a wonderful bird

4

In the morning your queer scent fill the farmyard

Your presence serves as scarecrow for our land

But to have you around, beautiful and tall bird 

Is a musing of its own, one that is absolutely good

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The Shepherds Tale

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

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Lullaby: Moonshine

”Where there is shine, there is a way…”

Take a walk through the pathways that lead to the village center
Pass the heavily treed garden of sour grapes and locust bean
And the ever singing Pines that border the town from the forest

Upon the skies, like a print of gold on the darkened grey clouds
A circle of light descend on the carpets of grasses and leaves
Creating a pathway of light to and fro, there and then, here and now
The fruits which hung on the forest shone like Christmas trees
Airs of the wild Nature, the rarest play on the moonshines command
Drawing faun, flora and man to her warmest embrace of light

…And for the faint and weak a very good night sleep to savor

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African Tradition: Calling upon the African rain storm

‘The land is hungry, so are my words…
Let’s make it rain… Let’s flood the dry earth and let the ink flow again!’

Now I seek to hear the sound of the rain fall
Yes let it rumble through the clouds
Like the stomach of a child about to purge
The vegetations here attest to the growing might
The stars are gone, gone out of the human sight
But this strange wind is not ordinary, it is the rain!

And when it rain, let it flood the drought lands
Let it fill everybodies pots, drums and calabashes
Let it water every sick vegetable all over the globe
Let it feed the cattle and wildlife everywhere on Earth
Let it fall and refresh the dying world
And let some rain dampen the ground on which we walk
In the morning we shall see a new seed sprout!

The tent doors shake with the coming wind
Here comes the might of the heavy rain herself
She twist and turns, hovers and manoevres, up and down
The great emissary of this rain; the wind plays about

Let me feel the smooth airs that come with it
Let me feel the wingless surge of the breeze
Let me feel the sweet whisper and kiss of mother Nature
Let the rooftop play me a fanciful drum of many beats
As my eyes close quietly, let a heavy rain fall!

Now I make the rain fall, wait and listen to it!

Commentary.

In Africa and some other parts of the globe, men are known to make rain fall. It is a craft which some have used for selfish reasons or for the general good of the clan.

This is purely imagined piece.

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Two Poems of Oke’ Iroegbu, The Apple and The Summer

The Apple blossom and turn red
Before now the Pines tell her
‘You are not what we think you are’
For then she was green and young
And when the wind blew around
The forest side, she swerved about
Like a tree leave upon a branch
‘I will blossom some day, you know’
She would say and always chuckle
Blushing in grave but absolute innocency
And in deep shyness she would look away
But these Pines would always look to her
Trying to see a fault, two or more
But the Summer will ripen all
And the grapes would never be the same again

2
When Summer arrives with her smiles
And the wheat fields glitter gold
As the clouds turn blue and white
And the Suns heat wake from her slumber
Painting the Earth with awesome hues
And all about the farm, joy and gladness
Awaken warm apparitions of love
Sweet memories of nice wine tasting
And the horse rides across the beach
The camp at the bush of hares
And the gathering of sour-sops
Summer comes taking the coldness
Upon the Earth and off peoples hearts

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Poetale

Hello pals,

Top of the day to you, I bring you poetic greetings and hearts. I will like to introduce you to another poetic invention: poetale. You might just wonder what it is, it is a fun way of telling stories in poetic styles and stanzas. Most of my poems come in this form. Poetales might lack the basic poetic characteristics but it is written on Run-on-lines. It might become more fun to read since actually it’s a tale. It is necessary to consider it as a poetic style for some reasons which I will publish later and who knows how popular it will become in few years time. You can check out The Legend of Wawadomea and A Tale of The Wildwoods, all published here. They are good examples of Poetales. So hang on, have fun and let’s explore this together. Please feel free to tell me what you think.

Ladies and gents, I give you my Poetales.