A poem on the village scene
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A Village Scene
The village wakes up thirsty and hungry
As tribal songs blast from a radio house
Rising sun and blue skies peek humbly
As a drifting breeze descends to dowse
And of the creatures mad wild and tame
Mating calls echo from the nearby pond
As white birds fly out far, playing a game
The world is a playground for the young
And the forcados river comes rolling fast
I reflect on the sweet memories of the past
Hand in hand with the wonders of the ages
Ducks float on the river, in twos and threes
I die in this seconds, alive only on this pages
Burying self in a beautiful village's peace.
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