I may not have the rivers of Babylon,
To sit beside them and weep when I
Remember you, my dear mother;
But may I too never be able to
Write poems or recite them again
If I do not remember you,
If I do not think of you as
My greatest joy!

It is summer season
When the wind runs about wailing
For it's carrying heat

in our small garden
between the rows of carrots
puppy hides his bone
17/5/2019

As I lie awake listening to the rain and wind
Playing music on my roof, the melody is as
Enchanting as a siren song.

I imagine the sky is blue. The trees are dancing
And waving their leaves while the rain-maker
cheers them on with lightning and thunder.

In the rainy season, my roof and the road to my
House will have a shower: they will look as clean
As the cloud that wanders aimlessly on a sunny day.

I can smell the season in the air as the rains pours
Down; what a delightful smell. It fills my heart with
Joy like the sea is filled with water.

I too must join the trees in their rain dance, for
This season is the season of life and wildflowers.

Your smile is like the scent
of a wildflower; you give
it generously and graciously to all;

like a flower you wear beauty
Marvelously; that is why designers
made you their abode;

the bees (journalist) and beetles (fans) of the
concrete jungle love your sweet nature,
which is like that of a flower;

that is why your name is
on their lips and they chase
you wherever you go.

You are the most gorgeous flower
with the most captivating blush
and beautiful stalk;

you make the world blissful by
allowing our eyes to drink your
beauty till we stagger drunk with it.

By Jove! Everything about you is
wild, charming, and down to earth,
like a wildflower in the spring.