Savannahs Poems | Examples

the queen of the Savannahs

In Savannah's heart, where wild things play,
A wanderer roamed, lost in a dreamy way.
He searched for wonder, for magic in the air,
And found the Queen, with beauty beyond compare.

Her eyes, like stars, shone bright and fair,
Her touch, like warmth, banished all despair.
The wanderer's heart, once dry and gray,
Now beat with joy, in a brand new way.

But alas, their love was fleeting, brief,
A moment's magic, a lifetime's grief.
The Queen, with heart so pure and kind,
Took the wanderer's heart, and left him blind.

He gazed into the clouds, with tears in his eyes,
And whispered secrets, to the Savannah's sighs.
The wind, it howled, like a mournful sound,
As the wanderer's heart, lay broken, on the ground.

Yet still, he dreams, of the Queen's sweet face,
And searches for her, in a lonely place.
For in her love, he found a fleeting peace,
A moment's joy, that will forever release.

Undergrowth with Two Figures - Van Gogh

Spilled from dew drenched petals,
an overflow of laughing ferns
warring with the still forms – graceful 
amazed by the atmosphere of light 
softly woven through the inklings, aglow

stirring winds beneath shadows
pouring from the twilight’s joy
softly threaded into the horizon, a sky
worn gray by the gentle hope
arising beyond the meadow’s charms

leaking, a trickle of melancholic
born of grief and glory
spattered with golden blossoms, dozens
bowing and kneeling to worship
praising their Creator, the Author of light

nodding like they’ve some reason
beyond the presence of silence
still forms, guided by the heartbeat, the rhythm
a song amid the savannahs quiet breath
pouring out joy through the air

bending and falling, calling to the morning
a reflection of still beauty, on the wings of truth
blowing across the steely skies
remembering the day when this artist transposed
the music of the heart to a story of genius

May PanAfricanism be our guiding light

Let the paths of our ancestors remain in sight,
Their struggles, their dreams, their fearless might.
Nkrumah's vision, Sankara's spirit, Lumumba's grace,
Mandela's legacy, a beacon for our race.
Ghaddafi's resilience, a lesson to embrace
From Cameroon's plains to Sahara's gliding grace.

Under the vastness of the Atlantic sky,
In Senegal's savannahs, let unity fly.
Let Pan-Africanism fill every breath we take
From cradle to grave, for humanity's sake.
No lines drawn by foreign hands should divide
But shared minds and lands, our true guide.

Africanism:Rise

The ancestral savannahs of my people
Are still alive in the unseen horizons
Our grandparents have told us many
Wonderful things about our tribe
Before they arrived, we were here

On the banks of the rivers and streams
We stood and saw their ships
North, south, East and West
Your blood flows in my veins; Only we
Can irrigate the fields without profits 

The sick mentality of favour doing
Need to be hang or put in the electric chair
We are not anyone boys or lessers
Our ancestors were kings, queens, and nobles
There was so much to eat and drink

The blood of our sweat, the sweat of our labor
Elements of stability; Rise Up Africans
Like a corpse, bury the weight of opprobrium
No more trembling, red blemishes
Shine in the middle; go nowhere

Africans, wise, and strong
Young and old; be a stimulating tree
Be part of the newfound springing up Africa
Amid the pale and faded flowers, we rise
Deliberately, and earnestly, we rise

With Habakkuk Kargbo (Rabbi)
©Poem Makers SL (18/04/24)

I Shall a Mighty Hunter Be

"I Shall A Mighty Hunter Be!"

“I shall a mighty hunter be,
The King of Kills, by God’s decree!
Savannahs always guarantee
a vantage camouflaging me.
  
I’ll lie in wait with sharpened claws
… until her keys unlock our doors!
My human’s finished many chores,
including patronizing stores

for meals to place inside my bowl.
Meow!  Dispense the chicken whole!
Provide the victuals!  That’s your goal!
Prepare some veal, pâte´, and sole …

Since after feasts I sleep a lot,
I found myself the perfect spot
to dream of feather wands and plot
to catch that fast, red laser dot!”

-     -     E. V. Wyler     -     -

Old Savannah

Old savannah, how old are you really
The moss hanging from the tree tells it all
Big oak and hickory that speaks and whispers

Old savannahs, how old are you really
Old street car rails still in place
If those street cars could talk
It would tell you an awesome story of its travels

Old savannah,  how old are you really
With old statues of the folks that lived, fought and die here
Museums that tells your story

Old boats that travels up and down the river
To see historic heritage
Slave ships that docked at the ports
Showing signs of savannah’s events
Old savannahs how old are you really

Kua Kua Bird

silence is broken
nocturnal song
yearning of the ghost bird

forest turns lively
creatures snuggle 
aware of kua-kua

field has snagged cousin
animals settle
listening to her song

mother of the moon
darling of savannahs

India's Stories - and Yours

I
You have seen them tell ... of things Indian
In dark South Africa, in the 1960s, BOMBAY ...
MADRAS, and CALCUTTA were destinations
As great as LONDON! We didn't know NYC, or Paris
Yes, old cultures have stories, much to say ...

II
Listen to stories ... African desert or forest, veld
Or savannahs, they are LIFE and living history
India's EPICS and Gita we have known -
O the lore, the everyday wisdom, kings and beggars
Are stars, as much as the priest, the PUROHIT,
Beyond brahmin and nobles, trader, or low caste
The stories are education, the culture showcased
Yes, share stories (and your own). But listen
Listen to all stories, old and new, theirs and our's.

Africa For Africans

Africa for Africans

Down the rivers of the east
the soothing wind blows in our minds
shaking our busy brains to rest
making worthwhile living in Africa
bare wind of our own making

Africa of the winkled hands
white teeth under shiny dark skin
gold hearts of marvellous flesh
many but just one
we are the soil on the ground

In the rivers life water flows
down the palm of savannahs there lived wildlife
green forests of all goodness
great wind of all bare brains
however Africa is a dark land of all

Giraffes

Great are the savannahs
It's amazing to see them
Right where you always roam
Always in search of food
From the treetops you look down
Far and wide is your sight
Every step you take is tall
So much taller than I

I Wish I Was

I Wish I Was

You know if I were an animal
I'd wish that I was
I wish I was a giraffe
For only then I could eat of the fruit trees and not grass
I'd wish that I was cause I could laugh
I'd wish that I was cause I would  have extremely long neck and legs
Automatically be tall ready for basket ball
I wish I was a giraffe
So that I'd be at grandstaff
I will have horn-like ossicones
Atop my head making me so handsome
Belly laugh up to the skies I'll have a  distinctive coat pattern
Make established social hierarchies through "necking"
No I don't mean kissing
I wish I was a giraffe
So that I'd be above the garbage
I will inhabit savannahs and woodlands
Gallop and graze in the gardens
If I were a giraffe I'd intrigued various cultures
Both ancient and modern
So that I'd be at grandstaff
I'd stretch my neck out, and be proud bout' it
For its peculiar appearance I will be tall “N” perfect
Imagine that...
I wish I were  a giraffe

5/2/18 
2018©
I Wish I Was a - Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by: Viv Wigley |

Urgent Desideratum

We are the keepers of hills
Of creeks and rivers and savannahs
Yet the shrills
Of the afflicted echo throughout the world
Filling Earth’s threshold with painful noise
We sleep amidst the desperate cries
Of animals, lands and skies, though
We percede to slumber, to lie still whilst 
Scorched trees succumb to our relentless inferno
Now the birds and heavens fly low
From our polluted breaths
Our waste infects the light, 
blights the world with deathly whispers
An endless fury of fire and smog
Until this world is crippled and blind
Now when will we realise, when will we find
Will we only know when the stars align?
That our world is dying, injured, and paralyzed

But there is a way to stop it, to save this kind,
Enchanting world
But we have to wake up

My Youthful Panorama

Lately been in a mood called nostalgia
Recalling days from my youthful panorama
Some ups some downs
Mostly smiles few frowns
Roaming through life's many savannahs

Ancient Egypt

hieroglyphics would have been more appealing
in epitomizing a backward spin to the ancient scenes
the heart of a glorious dynasty to have existed
a time machine of reviving words will do the trick
and pay tribute to the famed mammies
of the land that hath meaning to the word civilization

great colossal deities ushering us into the antiquities
of a man as famous as to be villained in gewish tales
footsteps trailing to his heightened heels
majestically beaming in a flock of maidens
a lengthy beard, the sovereignty of the wielder
awaiting the slaughter of a mighty emperor

another victim has fallen into the hands
of a beast that's conquered kingdoms of old
the king of the jungle stood no chance
against a dynasty as great as  the Nile
held by hung-men his pale eyes cry
to the blue skies that fathered the green plains
worldly acclaimed for beastly migration

first came Samson in followed pharaoh
to boast of having slain a mighty cat,
vast seas from the splendor- lit savannahs

the gates close and we drift back into our time
call it a glance into ancient civilization

Apache Scalpel

I want to take a scalpel
And surgically remove countenance
I want to fire a chainsaw
And massacre fast food consciousness
Sever and slash rinky dink rememberance

If you want to honor the dead
Let's go dance on gravestones
Not forgetting the bodies lost in Vietnam jungles

I want to take a hatchet
And slice clean modern education
Remove all doubt
That this is not what knowledge is about

More to the point
Let's cut the electricity
Rewire the main hardware
Start over and begin from the beginning
Before Genesis colonized the mind
When pure babies lay in savannahs 
And a bastion laid before our hands
Suddenly became awake

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