My Poetry Diary

O' aye! i see the night wantonly brewed, Like the ale of the middle west, O' peace with thou not my subtle mind subdued, I may rest from the stormy hand of thine woes and unrest; Two letters i got from thee, O' whirlwind, Thy stampedes came hauntingly at my camp, Like Sennacherib king of Assyria on Hezekiah skin; Thou not heard his army went beyond earthly ramp O' thou foe and friendly foe, Reap now what thine sow, O' aye! the darkness over the brim wallows ;Calling with a husky voice i seldom know, Thy shadow came like the dunes and its hollow; Thou a foe and a woe, With thine thick darkly veil, thou cant see,  I call now every illumination of light, Come forth thou and end all darkly spree, Come forth, my humble knight. I call thee God of Elijah, may thou begin; Let the wind now cease ! I call thee every illumination of peace; I command thee, whirlwind now cease ! Gafar Odubote, “thou foe and friendly fo

At the eve of birth a being I saw, That stands between Eden and heaven’s door; The eyes shone bright and fine like a crystal ball, I am Africa – the subtle voice whispered and called; All around me are fairies and fireflies, In awesomeness, I gazed at a paradise; Towards the light, in four I gently crawled, I am Africa – the subtle voice whispered and called; ‘Hold my hands and walk with me, Traverse with me the land beyond the sea, I am in the wind – the gentle and strong, I am in the season, the short and long,’ I am in the field – the trees and shrubs, I am in the water – that flows and drops, I am Africa - the subtle voice whispered and called; I am Africa – thy heritage of thine mud. All around me in awe and leaped from slough, My mama called me Africa – the spirit of love, I am Africa – the voice whispered we are kin, Bright is thy being, though black is thine skin, From the mountains I flew askew, Kilimanjaro and Olumo spoke a f

The wondrous six on a starry night, On an island from an harbor height, With his quill he humbly wrote, The magic that wantonly floats; The music and the wind were both as one, Silent touches made sparkles and burn, The flesh and spirit became singular, And whispers of sounds curiously unregular; Perfection thou art with the night, The sea and the waves wantonly ignite, The mathematics is infinite, And the chemistry is definite; The formula becomes magical like flying floral, Like winged petals in a windy aura, The atmosphere was perfect from falk’s calculation, Perfection thou art, alas, no modification! The music and the sea made a flaming light, So beautiful from lady Anni’s sight; At the shore of Les Canisses by the hills, Where two folklores sang by the sea; The palms and shrubs; in unison twined; As the cats walk briskly and dine, O’ lady, thy eyes shone like the stars in the sky, So magical and charming like thy smile; T