Butterfly and dragonfly

Flies in the air everywhere
Yet are not heard
Butterflies and dragonflies
On and around the coloured
Petals, which shows their glory in bloom

Butterflies in the air
Ready to sap of the nectar
As swiftly followed the dragonfly
Whose entrance was denied when
Ready to grab his juice,
Save the butterfly

In the belly they are felt
An unpleasant feeling
Which is wished to end
But the dragonfly not
So close, let alone enter
But afar from them remained

Butterfly kisses!! The petals
And their colourful smell shouted
Again and again until
It gave up the chase.
Poor dragonfly a sorrowful fly
As its lips wish for this taste

LOCKED INDOORS

Indoors the blue bird stays
Like a bat in the day
When it must spread
Its colourful wings
Across the clear heavens
Like a star in cloudless night

Strength and vigour fills his veins
Industry and innovation
So full of immense wealth untapped
Acquired through tiresome study
In higher education to develop
His wings and attain his real blue colour

His place of abode lies in the
Grasses and shrubs and no more
The fruitful pear trees, cut
And in its place, many stores
And super markets patronized
By a few wicked people in pajeros
No shelter over his head, he has,
No break in an endless job hunt
From the appearance of the sun
To the moon, such an inheritance
For others like him competing a place
For a daily morsel under any tree.

Where are you, trained blue bird
Who can sing the melodious songs
Which would drive away
Like the pied piper of Hamelin
Our unquenchable thirst and hunger
Our engulfing illiteracy and waste
That plagues the poor on the dusty path?

Where are you selfless blue birds?
For butterflies are now homes as pest
And rats and cockroaches friends of man
…and they blame their ancestors
For not being brave and wise enough
For allowing into their abode, the white man.

Will we have the pear tree, when?
…the fruitful tree, when will it grow tall
When planted again? Our blue birds lie sorrowfully
And homelessly like a stranger in their own land,
Though a graduate, being sought for
In lands afar by numerous pear trees.

AYEKOO !

Ayekoo son of Nkroful
Kwame was his name
Do you not know him, tell me?
He who returned to the coast of gold
He who named it after the ancient empire
Ghana our beloved country
Did you not hear it:
My Adomi bridge, my Tema habour
And the solid infrastructure
Because he believed in her?
We remember as
We salute you for that end:
The struggle for our independence.
We salute you for the motivation:
The struggle for African liberation.
They too, salute you:
The AU’s initiatives
The whites who even opposed you
Ayekoo they say
To the proud son of Nkroful
Wo jogban, Kwame
Wherever your soul lies.

Before the knock

The confused mind, wandering thoughts… spoken words
Terrifying fear … action or inaction, gay or pain
Hovers around settling down
When not permitted
Blinding the weak eyes, shutting down
The straining ears and ceasing breaking breadth.

Open your weak eyes
Even when it is dusty and dark,
Too bright too crowdie
Allowing not the piercing
Sword of the mind and the sharp
Fork tongue more poisonous
Than the scorpion and the rattle snakes.

Open your straining ears not to the banshees
But the sweet soothing song of the bluebirds
Comforting many as it rains.
Through out the ages yet
Has none to comfort
But the smiling moon and passing fleece.

None to speak to because
Surrounded by the cold and thorny trees
Short to its reach…
By the long winter nights of starless skies
And the short sunny days
Its words, voices like echoes waiting
To be accepted and heard, opened
To be loved by those it loves.

Gay or pain whatever it be
Fed up by the silence which
It protects and nurtures
Because of others that came its way
Shortly but devastating
Polluting and looting its enchanting voice
That lips imitate in failure.

Open and loose, release and allow
The mind and thoughts for a change for once
For us, for good and well-being
For that future, for them and all others
Below or higher, to what the aching and aging ears
Will hear from the weary mouths of what the weak eyes see
The truth it is, only will tell, the coming moments.

Respect long gone

…that light, too bright
On my face to shine
And blind my horrible sight.
Hide it!...in the dark
So my senses will live in peace

That light too bright
Once flew that flash so bright
Yet harmful, hurtful
A first experience,
Better if not shown at all

That light too bright
When my mind made complete meaning
And their mind made no meaning
Even though the mountains
Are above with the glaring sun

That light too hot
I could no longer contain
What my eyes saw, not
Alone but all within me too,
As if not too bright

That light, too bright
That your shame could not hide
In the darkness and not
So precious, what we’ve built
To be guarded but destroyed

That respect, long gone
And of the residue after
The fruits with their seeds consumed?
…that hurt too shameful?

Beautiful beast

Hands went towards pain
At the same time that her
Mouth opened to let out her
Sorrowful cry of hurt
For a parting that has been thought
Of but seems to have delayed.

I slept one afternoon, all bright
When I suddenly blacked out
When awoken, no more the keys
To my heart which beside me had lain
Before his arrival, the raid
Of the beautiful beast

Dancing alone

Tap my shoulders and hold my hands
Don’t leave me alone
Because the moon hangs like a ball
And I fear the engulfing dark
Around me if I must dance alone

My blue bird
My own blue bird
Just descended from the clouds
Where it has been colouring
Its colourful feathers.

My blue bird
My own blue bird
Invited I to a party under the blue
In the moon lit night
Started they and all
In pairs except the pear tree

He dances alone
To the melodious blowing wind
From side to side, its dancing rhythm
Which is heard by the leaves
Dancing to the created echoes

But on its branches hangs
Memories of the past:
How the blue bird has
Sat and leaned against its trunk
Completely drawn in thought with the dance.