lifestyle Pastoral Poetry reflection rhyme

Draw the Sun


Draw the golden sun, let it shine on dreams,
Trust little beginnings, hope for the best,
Reach for the stars, live this colorful dream

Start you blog today.

Africa folklore Nature Pastoral Poetry

The sun may hide

The sun may hide for a while
But faith is our fortitude and citadel


Sunset: Ride of Nature


I see you ride with the clouds, hiding your face from mine

Blushing before the endless firmaments, resting from the day

You have carved a wall of silver triangle upon heaven

And upon the midst of the oceans of floating clouds 
To the ends of the dying day you created a memory, 

Streaks of your silver push in thru the holes on doors

… All that is left of a fine sun set over a sleepy city, 

The retiring day you made your fine troubador


Hidden in your dress of clouds you ride

Proud with the days work you are filled

The warmth are gone when the Night abide

Moistened thoughts, dried out with soft airs


Golden Sunset, natures even ride… 

Painter of the wooded Savannah

Traversing the cities and wild… 

A reminder of love, blessed of God 


Musing: Setting sun

The setting sun reminds me of many things
Some nice, some exciting, some make me laugh
And others leave me sobbing at the thought
But making me to laugh or leaving me to sob
I find times defined in those memories, not me
Twilight comes with even finer airs, playing
On fantasies that my mind accepted long ago
Demanding is the airs,  her companion upon her wake
Surging to meet all the news that came with the evening
Particularly, the rendezvous staged by happy lovers

Musing: Sun Rising in Africa

When the sun rises upon the quiet hamlet
There is joy, there are smiles and laughter

The curtains are thrown open for light
The golden rays of the sun swing in
Hopes are high, answers to prayers come

The children roll out their bicycles
As their dogs follow them, fast
The little ones stay behind, to watch the fun

The girls file in a line to the stream
Talking about the previous night
And how great the melon harvest was

The boys march through the forest
To check their hidden traps
And hoping to kill a wild cattle one day

The women pound yams; make soup
Giving the hamlet a new decent smell
And from the hills, one can tell what meal that waits

The men gather about in the town center
Deliberating on a fresh and virgin farmland
And the new bridge proposed for the river

Trees swoosh about like a choirs swerving
The noise of joy is full and all about
And the tree leaves fall solemnly with the wind

The clouds blue, new and fresh
Let the sun turn all hue bright
Painting a beautiful image of the hamlet

As it falls on the huts by the roadside
Making those lively, painting them gold
And drawing wonder to all living things

The mamba and the boas come to the pathways
Scaring many, but joining the sun funfare
The monkeys play on the tree branches

The cries of the hawks up the skies
And the smaller birds making nest
Outside the hamlet are heard

The winds are not left out
They sing aloud, to the hamlets hearing
They conjure the spirits of the Whistling Pine

And as the warm friendly sun rises quietly
Smiling , it brings good tidings to all
Bugs, ants, faun and flora, man and woman


Five Poems

The wind grows soft and dry
It passes messages fast forgotten
For in its speed, it is lost
The pines whistle, men stay to listen

When the fruits fall off the trees
It thunders upon the quiet ground
And little stray ants wonder
If the world had come to an end

If Grapes ever had loved
The thought would be, but who?
Would it be the strange sops
Or the ever table-sitting red tomato?

If the Sun stays late to rise
The clouds turn solemn and sad
And when I ponder on the gloom
I understand the plight of the world

If metals I and friends are to be
Gold, silver, variants all certain
Diamonds glittering in the pitch dark
An abstract I shall become behind the curtain


Muse: Out in the Sunshine

Once out in the sunshine
We happen to see wonderful things
Things strange and old
Things new and rare

We feel the warmth
The scorch of the Sun
And the Heavens shower
On our light and fair skin

Dawn approaches and I will miss you
Your warmth, the heat and your embrace
Though the high skies had gone home
I shall wait to see your face again


The Summers Tale

When summers come around
The flowers bloom, red, pink
The clouds are proud with mild sun
Joy gives hope, the bridges a link
The green fields grow
We see the farmers sow

The summer leaves, taking the hue
Blowing all a hearty kiss
As her cold monstrous nephew
Comes taking the once a bliss
The nights turn cruel
As we eat from a bowl

The white clouds wear a scorn
The trees still lay a friend
As the Earths whiteness is done
And hearts are torn and broken
The moon stays all night
But the morrow it was a blight

The hills covered with snow
The cold eats the flesh
Man and beast lay low
And strange concoctions meshed
A bird flies over the blue cloud
And a smile grows; proud

The Earth gets colder
Lost on her way home
She stays a stranger
Fearing all mans shouts and booms
Praying that a bird flew up the heights
To live solemnly up, up the skies


The Old Man and The Bulb

I met an old man
Walking down the lane
Passing thru the barn
With a face, bold and stern
He dropped his stick
And I watched him stoop
His body rattled, weak
And down the steps, I took a hop
“Hello sire, lemme help you”
He looked up, a bright smile
“Oh, goodness, my son, bless you
i had been on the road for miles!”
The evening was cold
A storm was on its way
“Please do come inside
And I shall bake you some cake”
The face brightened the more
And thru the steps I led him
Taking our time as we head to the door
The sun sets, the clouds dim
And then the winds blew
Snow balls fall in drunk circles
And the road was full of white hue
I set the little brown kettle
And soon it was whistling
“Sire, you can stay the night”
I saw the hope in his eyes, dwindling
“Thanks for your hospitality”
He smiled again with some pain
The bulb up the ceiling kept shining
And I see glares of the old man
Take a side look, once and again
After tea and very hot shower
He lay on the bed, with his eyes on the ceiler
I sensed the unease, and made for the bed
“Sire, is anything the matter?”
He grunted and calmly shook his head
“Nah son, but I kept watching
This little light shining up there
I prefer to sleep on something
Afar off this little Sun up there!
I dont know what holds that”
He pointed to the bulb, carefully
Trying to let me see
Why the bed should be moved
Fearing should the hand
Holding the bulb decides to let go
What might become of him



for Uwakmfon Ebong

The breadth of the Earth lay wet
But the Sun rises from the East
From vague sights and the mist

The dark jungles, cool and serene
But the Lions stride through the green
Fearing neither man or faun

A shriek of strength is heard up the skies
The Eagle soars high up, many many miles
Hopes are high, seething thru the times

The wind surfs the wild oceans
The Whales trumpet blows far beyond
And all tremble, sea-dwellers and stray crustaceans

Now if the Skies were conquered by a hopeful bird
And to the jungles a strong King is crowned
And to the waters, courage abound

Then this piece made for you
Brings to you a joint of these brothers: strength, hope and courage


A Tale of the Lakeside

Once upon a quiet lakeside
Where blue skies stay
And very thick fog dwells
With tall Figs hiding in them
Hanging like towers
There’s a riot of colors
Down the valley
When the sun rays fall
On the forest below
All turns to gold
The clouds are not left behind
They shine gloriously
The water drops fall
Slowly from the waterfall
Washing the pebbles
As white waters rush in haste
And the solemn rocks
With green forests all beside it
Keeps watch in mute
There’s a rainbow up the sky
And a host of Egrets surfing the wind
The white mountains stand guard
With patches of green here and there
The winds blow the sweetest breezes
The bears growl all about
So beautiful, so charming
All about a quiet lakeside
And that’s Natures gift

Oiroegbu Halls



Early in the morning
The sun stays home
Taking care of her kids
Letting the Heavenly dew rest
There’s moist on vegetations;
There’s moist on trees
There’s moist on shrubs
On grasses and the pans
There’s moist on my hands
As I give each flower a shake
The skies are dark
Painted with different shades
And all gloom looking
Blackish mixture, cloudy
Like Zeus was about to war
And we could see his commanders
All drawn across the horizon
With all armor ready
Then were birds absent
Insects and hoppers holed up
The dew gives its water
To all creatures
Who could wander
Up the hills green fields

Oiroegbu Halls


Musing: All Things Beautiful

Queues of tiny cute rabbits
Unperturbed and playing in the corn fields
Eagles watching patiently over them
Neon-lit streetlights in the dark
Scents of the Rose and the Marigold
Calls of the Patridges across the forested waterfalls
Emeralds dressed in flower-smiles
Yesterday was fast snoring, again

Cakes of snow;
Hopes beautiful painted in artful sceneries
Utensils of fine silver hung on the walls
Kettles of the sweetest teas boil
Watered lilies blushing in the wooing Suns face
Ululation of songs sweet as fresh milk
Dreams shining brightly like the Diamond
Iota of Golden blessing on thee
Me says, ‘God bless ya all’


Our African Heritage

The sun has risen with hopes
It throws its light on our faces
On our farms, and our homes
And we see our shadows cast back
Our African heritage comes alive
To do her best for all human kind
For all beautiful infants
For all that gives life
This is our own, our pride
From the Eastern horn
Carving on faces, smiles
Reaching out to hurt souls
This is our dream, our heritage
From the Cape of Good Hope
The rocks and all caves
The streams, rivers and waterfalls
Running over white shiny pebbles
With grace and love
For you all, children of Africa
Here, a citadel, a hope
From histories and endearing cultures
This is our future, our home
The Lions and the Elephants
The millets and the Sorghums
The home of blue clouds
And to all peace seeking men
Oh humble land, our love Africa
The home of Natures best
We are Africa


So Long A Dreamers Joy

The sun gave its last smile
Then went to sleep for the day
Cool wooing sea breezes wash thru
Sending an emissary notice
To the gleefully shining stars
On a night many wondered about
The moon happy as he seemed
Searched the beautiful glades in haste
Looking for ones love –his love
Once, more crickets quizzed themselves
And from a long distance the wolf called
The whistling pine beckoned to the owl
Whispering musical notes
And then…
They held hands together
And in those eyes joy flowed
Reaching the touch from the skies
It took them from reality
To a world of fireworks
Catapulting to shapes of agape
Dawn was on his way a trifle shy
Pushing to join the union
It is time to part for love
Another night waits patiently
To smile and to see
The happy times of love
Surely such nights are rare…
For Africa I love.

Line 3: Thru… Through
Line 7: The moon is personified
Lines 10-12: Love is portrayed in the poetry

Study Question.
1. Discuss the use of personification in the poem.