Categories
culture/tradition lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry Series

Dream

You came as a Dream to me
This Dream has made me beautiful

Categories
folklore Nature Pastoral Poetry

Spring

Green and red leaves may fall
When spring sing from tree tops
And blue skies are her muse

Categories
culture/tradition folklore lifestyle Nature Pastoral Series

Music in me

They say you are the reason why they sing, I say you are the song in my heart.

Categories
Africa Nature Pastoral Poetry

A shepherd’s song

There’s a song known only to a shepherd,
When evenings come and the sun light fade
He sits with his sheep in the barnyard
And plays the guitar through the early night
Hounds howl, but his lyrics reassures his flock
Stars gather across the sky to listen, he winks at them
And when he retires, he drifts away to happy dreams

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Shepherd Lore

Dusk is messenger of sunset, birds fly away, hills sink,
Fireflies become touches to guide the Shepherd through
hills and valleys; nothing troubles man and sheep more
than the thought of warm wool and smell of hay

Categories
Africa Poetry

I Felt Roses by Okoroji Chidiebere Alexander

It was a dream,
The deepest of it,
The silent have it,
But this moments stole it,

I whisper a little,
She knew,
It was love,
She felt it,
I never wanted it back,
I gave it,
A shyly shaky witty love.

Oh no,
What if I dent the colours,
I spoilt it with odours,
Bored it with hours,
While gunning for what’s ours.

Maybe is love,
I cherish it,
I cherished you,
You never knew,
You didn’t care,
In love, all isn’t fair,
We’re never a pair.

Don’t make me cry,
Don’t say I didn’t try,
Don’t tell me we’re just friends,
Don’t take me for granted.

You love what you love,
We live for what we believe,
I have seen you,
I honestly know you,
What you want is leaving,
Don’t come back pleading.

Light me up,
The magic is over,
Fill me in,
The tragic went somber
Your love fooled me,
And the roses I felt.

Categories
Africa Nature Pastoral

A Shepherd’s Song

Evening airs are comfort to a tired soul,
Which all morning was submerged in wool,
Cuddled by cute lamb, fresh and beautiful.
Up in the skies, glittering stars play their role
Stories of the giraffe and the moon they tell,
How the giraffe ate the sickly moon half!
As the Shepherd lay down on the green turf
Calm airs bring to him the stories he told himself;
The stone man, wild goose and the short red Elf
But the Shepherd’s favorite is the tale of the mad Dwarf,
Who traveled all day to find his lost gold
Through snow he went, across rivers, forests and wastelands!
And when upon a quiet city he came, he settled and searched
Counting three and two before one, putting the cart before the horse
He was doomed to find nothing of such, so he took to daydreaming
Poor Dwarf! What was lost, was lost… His gold plates, spoons and ring!
But he did find something, love! ah love made the story interesting
Now before the Shepherd retired to bed, he heard a Nightingale sing
So he listened and allowed his heart beat dance, joyfully with the rhythm
Surely, the Night airs has a way of playing on his weary fancy

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Love Song

Still recalling our love story

How smiles turned to warm hugs

And how our hearts beat loudly

To the rhythm of the quiet night

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A Shepherds 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

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Three Musings: Poetry, Walk in my Dreams and My Tree House Library

1 Poetry

Records; minutes of past and fun memories flood in, sad and happy
Creating; nothing but me again and again, I rather be me still
Poetry: one beautiful happy thing that gladdens me
It dances in my soul, it is much my own, my freewill

2 Walk in my Dreams
Yes, you told me you would be fast asleep, thinking of me;
‘Keep your minds free, I might be found pacing your dreams’
In my empty thoughts we walked the beaches of ecstacy
And when the tides rise and fall,
I was awake in your arms

3 My Tree House Library
Yet from my lonely tree house library, came a song and a poem
Much books all night and when I wake, I find the books my pillow
The songs of bright colored birds a welcome from a nights storm
And the blessed morning a gift each time I stare thru the window

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Thankful Psalm

l feel your warmth Jehovah
The peace and comfort You gave
Now the sun shine thru my curtain
Strings of beautiful colors I see
Oh Jehovah, You are Awesome
The sky blue clouds stand at ease
You stand out, You are Handsome!

The love I feel, undescribable
The life I have, gracefully blessed
He loved me to love others
My voice, my warrior, my power
My strength, my icon, my Lord
My dream, my leader, my master
God my Supreme, Almighty God

For in You I see the beauty
Of all Your Creations
You are my dream and salvation
My inspiration, I am Abrahams seed
I am led to address You in African way
For people call me The Lords blessed
Ara na azu nwa, Chukwu di ebube

What if I had no color in my eyes,
What if I had no feet for my shoes?
What if… There are so many of them
But You, wouldn’t let me go that far
Your love made me absolute
And none can Your intentions mar
Your ways are mighty and astute

Good lands, valleys and hills
The rivers, skies and peoples
You cause me to behold;
I am forever grateful for Your love,
For the scentful flower and the bee,
For the morning dew with his suave,
And for a long but blessed week

Commentary.
Ara na azu nwa: Igbo language for ‘the breast that feeds a child’
Chukwu di ebube: My God is Glorious

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Africa’s poetale

Africa is a budding cocoon
A shy, fragile and cute butterfly
With shaky wings meant to fly
Living, in a desperate world

Africa is the gigantic tree
That grows by the side of the river
Shielding the lengths of the forests
And feeding the lifes around it

Africa is a mountain highly peaked
With white snows melting gracefully
And herds of Wildebeest grazing
Quietly down the grassy green plains

Africa is a mild song
That plays when the sunshine
At the beach down, down the road
With brown and white sand mixed

Africa is a dream
Waiting to happen
Hope of the generation
A scenic beauty of land and nature

Africa is my home
The hills of serene Ovim*
And the wild catfishes
That move about kingly and fearless

Africa is love
Community and family
Desires and joyful times
And the moonlight tales of the town

The Victoria Waterfalls is Africa
…The Veldt, the Savannah
…The Lake Chad and the River Niger
…The Lions and the Cheetah
…The Crocodiles and the Hippo
…The Elephants and the Rhino
…The Baobab and the Iroko
…The Zulu tribe and Igbo
…The Guinea and the Sahara
…The Oil Palm and the Shea
…The Orange and Nile River
…The Ashante and the Boer
…The Yankari reserve and the Serengeti
…The bushmens’ home and the Kalahari
…The amazing wine called mqobothi
…The Zebra and the Ostrich

Africa plays my fancy
And in such sweetness
I love my motherland

Commentary:
Ovim is in Nigeria and the poet hails from there.

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Alherin

When the clouds are dark with the rain imminent
And the banks overflow with abundance
When the scorching sun dries the mud into cakes
And leaves the land barren with no fruit
The grace of the Lord leads us ahead
Bringing us all manner of good tidings

Let the Lions roar up the rocks and plateau
And let the streams be filled with crocodiles
When the nights are cold and solemn
With darkness growing and shadows abound
The grace which surpasses all comes to us
Our fear will be gone, our footsteps even firm

When men wander through the length of the Earth
Searching for love which no man has ever seen
When there is little or no hope
And the candle lights go out slowly
Grace comes to save us from vains grip
Giving us the love that come from above

Hausa language is a Nigerian language spoken predominantly in the North of the country and Niger republic. It is one of the largest languages spoken in Africa.
Alherin, the poems title means Grace in the English language. Originally meant this piece to be sang.