for Steven

When I heard your drums beating
I felt the surges in my stomach

A born poet, with steaming pen
Drumming deeply the dreary drums
Without a flinch in the fingers

When I read of him
The words of a benevolent historian
Rumble in my head like the Monster's Song

His songs are but the songs
Of the Minstrel
Who dashes out some smoothly sung songs

I hear of the drums
And they make me feel better

Of the squatter's tales
Because he is a born poet




Poetry by Onyeka Nwelue
Read 576 times
Written on 2006-05-13 at 08:08

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CherryFairy
A born poet, with steaming pen
Drumming deeply the dreary drums
Without a flinch in the fingers.

That's really good and very descriptive!!
You're the one who's born to write!!
2006-05-13