As the cow-bells draw near
The golden sunset rays arcing
Darkness fast approaching
Old men trudge past hurriedly
Women with sacks on their backs walk fast
Soon, the fireplace is lit
The smoke-filled hut resurrects
Children play with moths
As mothers adeptly cook ugali
While milking cows at the cowshed
Laughter abounds
Of the cleverness of the hare
Or the gullibility of the elephant
And as the merry floats into the night
It mixes with the howl of the winds
Perhaps as a befitting valedictory
To the wonder of the African night
C) Lorot Salem 2011
From a prompt by Poets United Thursday Think Tank #58 Nightime
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3 comments:
Oh, I LOVE this poem. It lets me sail right across the many seas between us, and sit at the edge of your cookfire. I see the mothers cooking, the children playing. Truly beautiful, the wonder of the African night.
'Tis a dream inside a night.
@ Sherry Blue Sky, that is my pleasure...to paint images in your mind. :)
@ The Unknowngnome, sure it is, fellow poet. The night is a dream, a wonderful dream.
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Echoes of the Hills is all about you. I would love to hear your echo...