Musing: Countryside 

                         

                              

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I am hidden in the thickly wooded forest land

Tucked away in a pocket of land in the countryside



Green paradise, constantly drenched in the Rain; 

The august visitor, which comes when she wills;

And desires to make the clouds dark, the day solemn

To keep the warmth from all the hamlet, farm and hill


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The sun is hidden above the tree leaves and branches 

Underneath the woods; life goes on, life continues


The airs are sweet, amazing, a healing surge

Fires are made to keep the treacherous cold away

In clear contrast of it all, heat or cold, not to dodge

Admonitions, words, messages are never to go astray



For the countryside can be a darling or a demon 

A companion or a disaster, with or without

Tucked away in a pocket of land in the countryside

Just underneath the woods; life goes on, life continues 

Rain on the Window 

I love the sound of the rain when it hits the windows
When the multitude descend down from the Heavens

Splattering, hitting the Earths crust, smashing the clay 

Throwing up sweet scents, one unaccustomed to man

The sounds create a regular rhythm which sings a lullaby

Soothing are the rains words, mild are her amazing airs

The waters fall on the glasses, merging into balls which sigh, 

Silently, they rush off the glass in ecstatic and joyful haste

Muse: Midnights

Midnights are caricatures of dreams
Like the quick mist upon the morning
Licking the forest tree lines and city skylines
Sometimes it stands like a smoke phantom with a dagger
And mouth wide agape as like a dying strangled cockerel

Sometimes they come airy, with mild words, softer
Maybe with some rain, which makes all even milder
The lullabies play on the roof top, the rain drums

It celebrate the nights quietness, the rain and her wind
And mostly, to the fatigued and snoring worker,
Who in the rains benevolence, a solace find

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

Okechukwu’s Haiku

The night came and went, but we are awake to Gods call
Though the night brought darkness and bricks of wall
To everyone, men and women, great or small
Yet the love of God wakes with us to perfect us all

Good morning from Africa!