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5

I have a Bird in spring
Which for myself doth sing—
The spring decoys.
And as the summer nears—
And as the Rose appears,
Robin is gone.

Yet do I not repine
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown—
Learneth beyond the sea
Melody new for me
And will return.

Fast is a safer hand
Held in a truer Land
Are mine—
And though they now depart,
Tell I my doubting heart
They’re thine.

In a serener Bright,
In a more golden light
I see
Each little doubt and fear,
Each little discord here
Removed.

Then will I not repine,
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown
Shall in a distant tree
Bright melody for me
Return.
andrew juma Feb 2016
Rouse thyself up introvert
I know thou be just like me
Thou canst be heard in thy silence
Thou be wise in thy discreetness

Speak thee now
I give  thee the power of the ink
Write what thou thinketh
What thou learneth
When thy lips be sewn

Thy knowledge runs deep
In the deep of thy heart strength abides
Much more strength
That overcomes the voices

Write thy thoughts
thy formula for strength
Speak thy mind now

Before something dreadful
Takes this from thee
Something is looming
Stormy clouds are getting darker

The world is getting colder
Speak thee now
I give thee an uncorrupted art
An invaluable mouthpiece
I give thee poetry
andrew juma Feb 2016
Rouse thyself up introvert
I know thou be just like me
Thou canst be heard in thy silence
Thou be wise in thy discreetness

Speak thee now
I give  thee the power of the ink
Write what thou thinketh
What thou learneth
When thy lips be sewn

Thy knowledge runs deep
In the deep of thy heart strength abides
Much more strength
That overcomes the voices

Write thy thoughts
thy formula for strength
Speak thy mind now

Before something dreadful
Takes this from thee
Something is looming
Stormy clouds are getting darker

The world is getting colder
Speak thee now
I give thee an uncorrupted art
An invaluable mouthpiece
I give thee poetry
Dear child
The symphony
The mating of Benga melody

with the classic Nyatiti
With
Stealth,
On a momentous go
Inciting a twist and turn
Of rhythmic body movements

Unrelenting in sync with serenity
Livened by rhumba, Like an aphrodisiac
Lokua kanza “wapi yo,” Makambo Ezali Bourreau,
Le grande maitre: Franco: heaves
Ardent fans to the floor

Awestruck she emerged catapulted by urgency

Her sensual silhouette,

Converged our beings To the rhythm of her delight
Our souls
Enslaved
By
Mbilia bel Enchanted with her charm
Of seductive voluptuous hips

Dance, pretty one,
Grind your spine
In the celestial fire dance on blazing feet,
Bewitching tread
Vigorous moves
Paralleled by turbulent winds

In exquisite sequence infatuated with oblivious spirits
Throbbing within A whirlwind

Akinyi craved being her

Okinyi envisaged infused in her

Primed with ravenous desire

Drew to her And probed,

Stuttering, “Where thou learneth exemplary art,
A master?”

Oblivious to him,

She was no mere mortal

But a souls ripper.

— The End —