Morning after Feok
1.
All is still and soundless
As the mighty calm after a storm
The land is at rest
Tired and worn out from the trampling
And stomping these last many days
From homes, to the palace, the market
And back to homes again with drums
Humming and buzzing all day nonstop
Horns and whistles calling from rooftops
Singing the praise of ancient warriors
Men’s blood boiling in response
And hearts throbbing with the drums
All is now spent and silent.
As the mighty calm after a storm
The land is at rest
Tired and worn out from the trampling
And stomping these last many days
From homes, to the palace, the market
And back to homes again with drums
Humming and buzzing all day nonstop
Horns and whistles calling from rooftops
Singing the praise of ancient warriors
Men’s blood boiling in response
And hearts throbbing with the drums
All is now spent and silent.
2.
The patter of the feet of excited children
The dainty steps of maidens
The eager stride of energetic youths
The heavy drag of grey-bearded men
The resounding trod of war dancers
And sweaty women chasing them
Round and round the marketplace
That made the land throb and tremble
All that is now still and resting.
All are wearied with aching joints
And sprained muscles sore
None is stirring.
The dainty steps of maidens
The eager stride of energetic youths
The heavy drag of grey-bearded men
The resounding trod of war dancers
And sweaty women chasing them
Round and round the marketplace
That made the land throb and tremble
All that is now still and resting.
All are wearied with aching joints
And sprained muscles sore
None is stirring.
3.
The air is thick and still
Clad in a heavy cloak of dust
Looming over the horizon
Like an approaching storm.
The trees stand motionless
Even the birds are not stirring yet
Safe one strange solitary bird
Calling in the distance
Breaking the silence before the break
Of the frigid Harmattan draughts
That will dissipate the dusty curtain
And all come alive at once again.
Clad in a heavy cloak of dust
Looming over the horizon
Like an approaching storm.
The trees stand motionless
Even the birds are not stirring yet
Safe one strange solitary bird
Calling in the distance
Breaking the silence before the break
Of the frigid Harmattan draughts
That will dissipate the dusty curtain
And all come alive at once again.
28/12/2015
Sandema
Read the prequel to this poem here
So Lovely And Worth Reading! Love it!
ReplyDeleteSo Lovely And Worth Reading! Love it!
ReplyDelete