The Pearl of My Heart

Climbers and bushes are like sentinels that guard our terrains, Waterfalls and paths, cascade like snakes gliding on the mountains, Our indigenous mansion lounges like a penthouse on the hill, Amidst echoing rocks, mumbling winds, which chime with a mellow mill. Chirpy whistles, gaiety gurgles and tuneful tender trills, Of the nightingales, serenely sooth me with melodious thrills. My breaths as I awake, perfumed by scents of lavender and jasmine, The mollifying noon breeze, habitually sprays fragrances pristine, Women in native regalia adorned, hum harmoniously, ambling to the spring While whistling herdsmen, guide home their cattle fleets, in the evening. Festal flashes of the withering sun, linger longingly, as if ruing to depart From the chaste crimsonlit landscape, like lovers unwilling to part? The lulling twilight thrush and owl’s ominous knell, contrastingly interlude, Nightsky; a swarm of stars sprightly surround the moon, like in nuptial beatitude. Ghastly and grotesque shapes seem to transiently form, from a distance, Reminiscent of the phantom and fairy folklores, of our childhood dalliance. I escape the misty chill, as fireflies’ luminous sparks bid me farewell, Reclining to the quilt of our fireplace, succumbing to its soporific spell, In a while, surrender to slumber’s beckon, lured like a lyre saccharine, Home’s where the heart is, always a quilt of memories divine. © Maverick Nyambu