THE MOON, THE SUN, THE ROCK

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Only a rock in the ocean I am

The weathering waves around me wash

My nights are lonely my nights are noisy

I yearn to see her, her attention in the skies

I prepare a flower my moon to surprise

Tonight is the night, a married night

And all Is set to see my moon

The sun shone whole my flowers pale

I wondered what more befitting

My moon to surprise

The night is come

In her regalia the moon

In her silvery colour

Three stars her shinning waist held

My night will be long, the tempest the storm 

     A night, a special night

A lonely night, though my moon was up

A flower died twice in my hand

A life

A lonely life of a rock in the ocean

More than a thousand words

Disagree disbelieve

May be right, may be wrong

When earth’s final painting

Of you, of her, of us, of them

Finally painted.

When the hands can feel no longer

Nor none their images repaint,

When the lips, its echoes, share no longer;

Your images will be worth more

Because a thousand words can reach no more.

My monday

I wait for another Monday

Again her guiding smile approaching my way

Widely opened for all to see,

Only me her all to receive.

I wait but when, Monday?

Will you fill my thoughts on Sunday?

Why can’t I wait to see you, Monday?

Longed for, charmed and different

You alone make me feel

My Monday.








Dedicated to Ekua Mrenfua Otoo, 2/12/2013, during her service at the Spanish section, University of Ghana, Modern Languages, Legon