Thursday, 8 October 2015


On that blissful night
Of retire from the Folks Place
Where our feet first converged at Nana's call
I, the bee
Blown by the wind into your path

Words exchanged one or two, or three
'You look familiar’, I have seen you before'
Then, you entered my soul, there
Embossed, not ephemeral, your fragrance
I inhaled deeply

Morning blossoms
Blossoming spring
Clothed in heaven's mind
The window of my heart flung opened
To catch your aroma and morning breathe

Afternoon sun
Baths you to beauty
Your attitude
Your sweetness
Your care

My heart whispered me calm
Spoke to me and sang a ballad
My heart knew it had found a treasure
A place, a home
A woman to love, a companion

I loosened to trust like Bonwire’s loom
You are the weaver’s hand
Whose tears wiped away my tears
Love is no more a stranger

Dainty dove
I till the earth and sow
A handful of gratitude
For you, the august gift of August.

Copyright (C) 2015

Abronoma (Akan Twi) = Dove
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