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 626 times
Written on 2006-05-13 at 08:08
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
CherryFairy |