Poetry

Musing: The howling wind

I hear the wind howl through the gaps,

Through the minute holes which stayed in the walls

Pushing, hissing it went, pushing the books on my laps

Turning the pages without my consent, winning it all
The wind disturb the happy quiet night

Making the room look like a party hall

While I tried gathering my loose book pages

The curtain and the candle dance away, wildly
Stars won’t fall from the skies

Even though the wind sound heavy

Watch it, observe well with your eyes

For such nights seldom come rarely

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Lullaby, The Winds

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

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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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A muse: Sunset

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

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August night poems

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

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Lullaby: African Good Night

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

Nature

Darkness falls

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

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Lullaby: A tale of the cold night

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

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When night falls

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

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Lullaby: Rain drums

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!