Village boy Impressions

Oh bright and innocent Lilium, Why do you wail in the mountain breeze?  Golden Splendour, scented Robina, Why envy the crimson-rose?  Think not of them,  You also have your shine. Behold the sun outshines all And all life hasten to greet his awakening.  Yet it is the moon, the lesser light  That makes the cripple hungry for a walk!  Village Boy Impressions - The Joys of Mother Africa How you degrade yourself, fairest lily, And do the sons of Adam an injustice.  Though they be beguiled of the sun by day, They soon seek the shade of the huge baobab To escape even his charm and grandeur  But of the moon, it is not told  That they tired nor sought rest.  Village Boy Impressions - Moonlit Nights As the day makes way for the night,  So does the sun for the moon, And long into the watches of the night, The village is bathed in her glorious splendour, Charmed by her joyous beams Intoxicated with her beauty. Only when she grows shy and hides her grin  Do they, at last, seek their happy mats  An

Indeed, beauty is sweet and tasty Like the lily by the waters That the little damsel plucked  And pinned in her auburn hair. But she grew tired of her captive As soon as she spotted the rose That blossomed by the walkway. Off came the lily out of her silky setting Into the nearby stenchy sewage Then smiled the rose and sat On the wench’s auburn hair  Enjoying her ladyship whiles it lasted. Sons of Adam are as the damsel. Daughters of Eve are as the lily. Oh, son of Adam! why do you pluck A white lily when you need a red rose? You smell, you touch and you taste Only to spit out into the stenchy sewage. Very soon there will be no more lilies Still bright, white and innocent. Only roses shall remain, ready to sting With their poisonous thorns When at last they sure must fall into The dark stenchy sewage of forgetfulness. And blame it on the damsel, we will, The unending plight of beauty. ***************************************************************** By Oparebea Maafo