Moen Poems - Poems about Moen

...They all used to be in the 'Kwaya'. Every Sundays and even Midweek, Ate the bread and drank the blood at the altar. Sang like angels but spiritually weak. They are the saints during worship ses......

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...Under the moonlight, the voices chant. Young voices, and nearby, the old men rant Over kegs of fresh palm wine and kola nuts Spitting out proverbs and some, with coconuts. The locust chirps pur......

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