Thursday, 17 January 2013
A NIGHT BEFORE HARMATTAN
I sat, i watched..
The sorrowing wind groveling by-
slowly slowly; i sat, by my fiery friend, my torch..
As murmuring leaves stuttered a goodbye
Mumbling from side to side
While farewel is bade; to a weather sweat and mild..
The grasses, they danced a slow tune-
Crooned by the wind..
I sat, i watched.. My witness was the moon
'Tis a doleful welcome ceremony
Fit for the coming tyrant-
my pity, for these greens; they'l soon be frail and browny-
And pale, and dormant..
OH brook and loft watered stream!
Hurry now, crave the hands of mother-sea
The coming man is harsh and thirsty; ne'er gleam'
Warm wind, find a frock of sweater
Quickly, quickly- ere you turn cold..
'Tubers- tubers', tell the farmer..
Swift comes his foe, from timings old..
Hurry, hurry flowers
Find a hiding place
Ere your petals sweet and supple
Turn frail and crisp..
Scurry, scurry rose maidens
Oil thy phloem's clothings
Ere harmattan comes with its chiding; be quail-
Ere its stern caress turns thee, dry n pale..
I sit, i watch- leaves in melancholy cheer
Spending the last breath of a pitying weather
-holding conciousness that; harmattan is near
Brave gentle greens, waiting death; waiting to wither-
Should men be brave and united as you..
Glory-glory, will be; all we'll chew..
- Otonye Daniel