for Steven
When I heard your drums beatingI felt the surges in my stomach
A born poet, with steaming pen
Drumming deeply the dreary drums
Without a flinch in the fingers
When I read of him
The words of a benevolent historian
Rumble in my head like the Monster's Song
His songs are but the songs
Of the Minstrel
Who dashes out some smoothly sung songs
I hear of the drums
And they make me feel better
Of the squatter's tales
Because he is a born poet
Poetry by Onyeka Nwelue
Read 592 times
Written on 2006-05-08 at 17:04
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