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

I was happy when the long Awaited rain started pouring. But the soft shower soon matured Into a strong fearful storm. I saw the roofs ripped apart by the Horrendous winds that blew. Like a Gazelle in search of water I run in search of the Crag Read:  Village Boy Impressions - Hustler in Accra   Glad I was to see the sunshine. Before long the warm friendly planet Had grown into a sulfur furnace. Soon enough the burning heat set My frock on fiery, fatal, flames. Turning my flesh into roast beef I rent my clothes in fright And flew in search of the Crag Read Here:  Village Boy Impressions - Televised News in Ghana   Then I saw the kinsman’s hut That seemed so hale and hearty. I was weak but I knocked and kicked Until the door seemed to open. But where was the headman? He was gone, gone, never to return. Strange eyes stared ferociously at me So I sped in search of the Crag  Have you read:  Village Boy Impressions - Vipers? Then I saw the

On  the wall in my backyard, In the shade of the tall tree in flower Round and round the trunk, up and down A she-lizard dances with her mate. My heart rolled back the years Till I stood by the crags in childhood  Wide-eyed with a taut catapult in hand A roughly round pebble held ready to fly As we circled the rocks  in the noon sun. Read:  Village Boy Impressions - The Baobab Tree Agama, what a good sport! Swift, spirited and agile Just as good at swerving as Breaking suddenly in flight.  Quite a wonder and a challenge to us. But so also were we, the little cats Nimble of foot and deft with our shots. Driven by our little rumbling tummies; The constant nagging companions of our boyhood. Read:  Village Boy Impressions - A Tribute to Hunger Our favourite was always the landlord Blue-grey body, and yellow tail Red or orange head, so cocky Mocking us from your elevated post On the crags, roofs, high walls or tree branches, Defying our flying stones and curses. 

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

It is a curious thing what words are! Many things at once or o ne thing at a time.  They are worth all they say and more!  Sometimes they are like; Mothers' milk, c olourful blossoms,  Polished diamonds, w arm sunlight or Even clay in the potter's hand. But they can also be as Bitter as gall, c old as death,  Hard as marble, painful as betrayal,  Soft as butter, s weeter than honey.  Pick them like a connoisseur, Polished to dazzling artistry For they make or mar beauty and being. Choose them like the chef, Healthy and tasty both That you may glow with pride at their praise. Use them like the teacher, Precise, concise, and constructive  To guide and instruct the little ones And bring them up in the right way. Speak them like the mendicant, That you may move your Lord To generous benevolence.   If proverbs are the palm oil with which words are eaten, Words are the morsel that must choke or nourish you Though sticks and stones may break your bones, Words can haunt or hurt you for

The crops never thrive in untendered fields Neither the millet nor the cowpea Can stand the wild tares Nor the parched nor the cloggy field.  But even on God's loamy earth,  Much must be spent to make  The maize and the sorghum bloom.  Much must be given,  For much to be harvested; All have to be weeded and seeded Some have to be watched and watered And many others mulched and manured,  Least they wither and die.  There is no joy for the sluggard.  It is a world of labour From farm to fork.  Could it be we weren't planted deep enough,  Or we neglected to nurture the shoot?  What might have been a bumper field Is become a parched land For nothing untendered can prosper.  Yet we sowed wildly and sparingly: And some seeds fell among the rocks And died unappreciated and unpraised.  Many more fell among the thorns And were pierced with divergent cares.  Still others by the road side fell And the mouths that eat salt and pepper  Have devoured those; Spreading their poo across the glo

" Why the Chameleon Has a Broken Head & other stories of Asuom " is the second in the  Asuom Series  which seeks to present 'Buluk to the World' by translating the popular folktales of the land into the English Language to reach a wider audience and hopefully enable them to be integrated into mainstream educational texts in time.  Content:  The Book contains the following tales:  The Fattened Rams of Agoabiak Which is more important – Age or Wisdom? How Asuom Got A Handsome Mouth Asuom and the Three Herculean Tasks Asuom and the King's Roofing Beam Asuom and the Honey Tree Why the Lion Hunts Other Animals The Gossip Trap Why the Chameleon Has A 'Broken' Head (I) Why the Chameleon Has A 'Broken' Head (II) Read an Excerpt from the Book below.  "It was then that Abunoruk arrived. Everyone was so busy debating and making their own constructions of how Asuom brought the beam home. They took no notice of Abunoruk who made his way to the king and