Africa Africa, Poetry and Love night poems

Muse: Look in my eyes


Look into my eyes
See how special you are
Feel my heart jump with joy
And that is because you are here

Africa, Poetry and Love Pastoral Poetry rhyme

The Winds Asunder

Dark clouds slowly grow and gather,
The fast wind starts her grim asunder,
Along her path, she flung away things; rooftops and paper
So that unhappy owners may come looking for them later

Africa education haiku lifestyle Nature opinion Poetry reflection rhyme Series

What I think of Poverty (Poetry)

What if I told you a poem of poverty
Will you wave it off and call me silly?
I will tell you what I think
Why communities continue to sink,
School children trek miles to get a bus
Their worn-out shoes make it worse,
Bright girls will deliberately miss school
Sanitary pads their excuse, without it a woe,
There is a lad sitting near the street bend
His foot sore, his hair torn in the wind,
He is a victim of poverty, he has no home
So he and others sit it out, in rain and storm,
Slavery, a grandchild of poverty takes
People, in order to help for goodness sake,
She humbly breaks the back of hard-working men
And throw their conquered will into her mothers den,
Cold night won’t help anyone either
She is cruel to both the rich and the pauper,
Poverty gave a meal once a day
To wish deceitful luxuries away,
If poverty was a product and so man-made
It is dished as soup in fancy bottles of pomade,
Now will you sit with me and reason
About wealth that is tactfully hidden
And enjoyed by those we trust with votes?
You will agree that poverty is not by choice

culture/tradition education lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry Series

Quote: Pride & Humility

Pride is the father of shame
Humility is the father of fame

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Africa folklore Nature Pastoral Poetry

Fantasy: Dream with me

Let’s lie on green fields
Close your weary eyes
Dream with me of a pretty land

I want a tree by my side
And a bunny out there too,
Sunshine, cute clouds and blue skies

Let the sun wear her garment
And her warmth mild upon us
Let tree leaves shade her light

So I’m a musketeer in Camelot
A fantasy in my restless mind
But what do you dream about?

Africa lifestyle Nature Pastoral

To my First Grays

You make me look old
Like the folktales I told
I wish away old age
But they say gray is sage
I feel happy warmth,
When I muse over it

folklore lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry

Muse: Meet me

Meet me at the tunnels end, there I’ll wait…

culture/tradition education folklore Nature Pastoral Series

Muse: I choose you

I’ll choose you any day; today and tomorrow

lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry

Muse: My friend

You my friend is wild,
Yet your acquaintance is mild

lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry


Remember the setting sun will rise,
Tomorrow will become yesterday
And life must definitely find a way

Africa Love and Christianity Nature Pastoral Poetry Series

Love Challenge 3

The swift surge of the evening air
Compares not to your amazing smile
Your glittering teeth, oh splendor of my soul

Africa culture/tradition Nature Pastoral Poetry

February Harmattan

Harbinger of Sahara, king of the queer dust I hail you!
Your entourage of heavy sand storms and dunes
Display there works of art on our glass windows and faces
You give us very strange attires, ghostly ones

We wonder, we make guesses of why you love the dust,
Why you paint all; flowers, careless food, the pond
And why you draw make ups on our innocent faces
But when you leave, we have air void of your asunder

Our feet crack, our lips go extremely dry
No one knows your origin, even the nomads,
The camels, the horses smell you and grunt hard
When your dust meets water, it gives a pleasant smell

Where the rivers flow, you carry your dust to
So when we escape from your conquered cities
We run into the embrace of the river’s mud
Trees stand aghast, confused of what you are becoming

But alas, you come and must go,
You and your cruel crew
So where next are you going to,
And why must you paint all so?

Africa Nature Pastoral Poetry

Palm Trees

Like a tropical masquerade she stood
With hands as long and spiky fronds
And breasts as red fruits, ripe and
Fresh snacks for all who come to her feast
Long are her strong and tiny roots
For she stands as firm sentry and greets
All that journey through the quiet hamlet
She hides behind hills but towers as tallest
Tree, when she throws her shade over the rivulet
Sunlight is her dress so is the green forest
And she leads everyone with a blessed heart
For life gladly depends on her benevolence

Pastoral Poetry


Dear candlelight
Dance for me, throw your light
Upon the darkness in this box
Make these great shadows a hoax
Fire your joyful flames up
So you may read words my pen drop
Gather your heat and strength
Waltz with the wind, feel the warmth
Dance again when you lick the air
Mock me when you burn my hair
But let my cheerful words sink
As fine ale, a thirsty man may drink

Poetry Uncategorized

Muse: Evening Rain

Hear the clouds rumble, for it rains again
Soft breezes from the quiet evening
Come drumming, mildly on the pan,
The rooftop has got a companion

Up this ancient forested hills
The trees dance and twist
To songs from the Winds tongues
From the pond, the back-up frog choir get set,
Waiting for their master, Lightning to herald the start
Now the sweet breeze sweep through the hilly hamlet
In search of eyes, to take with her to Sleep’s wonder land


Teach me to Love you again

For our love’s memory
I cherish your love dose,
Your care and your beauty,
Each time the swift sun rose
Gracefully, I recall our hopes…

But the candle light dwindles
And I miss you, now that it faints

Teach me to love you again
Embrace me when I fail;
The hugs, cuddling, I’ll relearn-
For this promise won’t go ill
And our efforts won’t flop…

Now genuine affection will rekindle
Our fire, slowly we’ll retake all we lost


Call me Summer 

Call me summer; my days are sunny and hot, 

And in the forage you shall find, sweet fruits riped. 

I give tastes of fresh salmon cooked in coconut oil

And a drink of wine to toast to the mild island heat


Call me summer for I plait the hairs of the palm trees

I watch the tiny caterpillars wriggle out of humus

The green garden is my favorite playground, 

And my laboratory where my fancies are made


Call me summer, I bake the ageless rocks 

They simmer, the forest paths lay quiet

And I conjure small snakes on the pathways, 

They enjoy the serene weather and heat! 


Call me summer for I sing with the waterfalls

The pond is warm, reptiles adore the warmth

The grassland turn alive; yellow and green

And the clay taste for the rains wealth


Call me summer; I dance in the airs of the morning

I sit with the grey owls in the hidden farm barn

Counting the travelling birds that flew the happy day

When the sun set I blow dry air to sooth the night

Call me summer, I am glad and alive! 

I give smell of lavender, of mushroom

I throw a party; as mother Nature’s art

Wishing my best to all who love me! 


Musing: Lazy Day

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


The moon and night plays

Yells, cries of children disturb the nights silence
In the moonlight they dance, they play in the distance

Casting shadows upon the lonely tree’d pathway
Tumbling on sands, caring not for neither man nor scorpion
They make figures, people and tall castles of clay
Happily they yell, desiring nothing under the queer moon

Meanwhile the wind blow, the mosquitoes flee
Wild trees swerve like a mad reggae dancer
Children noises mix with the dancing windy trees
As the young night went black and darker




…Soars the skies
With the fine Eagles

…Paints the winds
Red and sky blue

…Watches the rising sun
As she wakes fron the East

…Tastes the grapes
Along the green orchard

…Dream a dream
And believes in that dream

…Rides the Wildebeest
Across the Savannah

…Fly kites
Which turn out to be air planes

…It is in you and me
And it can make us the best we can be

Is the discovery of oneself,
Of the true meaning of existence
Imagination, rules the world


Home coming: freestyle

The strange rains fall
Leaves fall in circles
With a back on the wall
I watch the Wrestlers debacle

Now the quietness falls on me
Solemn, it seems today
Chatting, what a boring day it be
For my home beckons far away


Midnight Thought

Once upon a midnight dreary
As I pondered weak and weary

The night was grim and all was damp
Swarms of flyfull insect surround my lamp

And out there the trees stood like Halloween ghosts
Waiting to take a stab, standing lightly on the dusts

The clouds shine, Zeus was trying out his new lamp
His match sticks light the heavens, lands and the swamp

The grey bearded unsmiling Moon shone gleefully
My big head watching it, tired and weary

My head stuck back into the window hole
And at first it fell on a big bowl

A friend lay snoring up the bed
And to me, the cool ground I laid

Strange lonely sounds of the dark
Rent the air, on my mind it left its mark

This night cold, quiet and galely uncaring for its looks
And all I had as a pillow was those books

I thought wild, letting my mind wander
Minding not the quick wind and her asunder

But if I was asked to let be
This night, what the gifts God gave me

The disturbing slow-speed lamplight moth
Or the cold winds this strange Night brought?