Today she was born
not just a normal baby
but a giant
A giant that produces;
It produces thirty-six children
It produces great minerals
to nourish her nation
produces sportsmen and women
It produces great ones
known for breaking record
All around
her favourite colour
green and white
which is her symbol
despite her up’s and down
She is still strong
With many generations
representing her
She is still unique
Nigeria at 65
I love my country
Happy Independence Day
Every hum
How sweet
Rhythm the sound
Franklyn Greene the man
Had his own demand
Lived to proof
Enthused
True Sportsmen
Solid foundation
Hourglass timed out
Whispers from the distance
Distances far and close
Yesterday’s past
Tomorrow’s everlasting
The one day came
Followed by soar
Beyond the eyes of the world
Descended and transitioned
I will always remember
Encouragement gained
Honor in the Blakie call
Embrace from Brotherly to Brotherly
Heart driven with every beat
Every talk was a treat
Every joke had a laugh
Peace, Comfort and Tranquility
Thank you for your friendship
This is not goodbye, but until we meet again
Blakie waves
I promise I will behave
Blakie out
Can marrying Lydia
Be a good idea
Or one to shrug off
And from her keep off?
Lydia would men ride
In her Giant Pride;
Not blinking her eyes
Drop them chosen lies:
“From parched lands heard ‘squelch’;
Beer drinkers don’t belch!”
Is shunning Lydia
A Male Coward’s fear?
Her eyes on India
Like it should be “Now!”
She a sacred cow;
You to not ask “Why?”
For she shall still try!
What you and I eat
What you and I eat
We would at times heat
To killer germs beat:
With fire foes greet;
The Waiting in Wheat!
What you and I Eat
Strength obliges our feet:
Sportsmen who eye feat
Record still Plain Sheet.
When fail we to eat,
We could like sheep bleat
Shiver as during sleet.
And cooks die to meet
Welcome winter month into my little haven of dreams and joy
your rouge cheeks and your fresh air kisses will do us all good
Let me worship in your ice rink of fun and chatter with my friends
while I sip on cocoa from a foam cup and share a story or two...
Winter tide greetings from Jack Frost is always a warm embrace
when it comes from the heart, we neve tire of the lit up snow
Sunshine loves to shine especially on a cold cold day, and we
are the lucky captives of lovely rays, each time we put our faces
up to the beautiful ice blue sky.
Hospitable season that you are you are generous with inventive games
such as ice skating, sledding, skiing and angel making techniques,
Oh let us not forget ice fishing for those wonderful sportsmen
who love to fish...
I welcome you winter, dressed to the nines with wooly attire
the only thing you do to me dear January, is inspire to aspire.
big country india,real country india
sun-shine converts
fear into hope
out of which
india produces soldiers
big country india,real country india
sun-shine converts
nothingness into aspirations
out of which
india produces sportsmen
big country india,real country india
sun-shine converts
solo into union
out of which
india produces babies
big country india,real country india
childhood innocence
freedom to roam natures way,
Galactic image.
Another day, adventures sought, friends to meet,
rise at five, sun just rising, head for the fields,
long day ahead, dog by my side, decisions to make,
camping in the hills or den making in the woods,
fishing in the stream, brook jumping, make tree swing,
bike ride, rock climbing, swim in the lake, bath tub cruise,
glorious days of summer, no responsibilities, so free,
packed lunch, warm bottle of water, stale roll with cheese,
scraps for the dog, life was so good, days so long,
we were builders, fishermen, mountaineers, hunters,
sailors, sportsmen, explorers, astronauts and pilots,
sunset time to head home, memories, tales to tell,
ready for dinner, exhausted, look forward to another day.
Long day's of desire
memories of a lifetime,
simple black and white.
Composed 08/23/2017.
No, my mother Atheist said,
Long live cricket, God is dead,
Debbie Downer's Nihilist thoughts,
Total negativity she taught,
This is Debbie Downer' doormat daughter,
Saturday sportsmen off to the slaughter,
Yes, God is dead,
Long live extreme sports,
That's what negative Norma said.
With the world cup fever on and Lagaan 2015 pitching in,
Let’s get to the pitch and taste those 22 yards,
Though we don’t have Jumani’s prediction from the numbers and the cards,
Still nerds can be sportsmen and sportsmen can be nerds.
They say laughing is great for health-
With busy release schedules when you forget your better half,
who knew some people would gather to make you laugh.
Take out your playing shoes and fold you cuff as
They say ‘All is fair in love and war’
So, when we gather let’s try our hands at tug of war
When some think the games are just for some
We have been generous to include something for all
And we added “passing and dodging the ball’
With the heat beginning to take the toll,
If you are thinking of a mock-tail,
Who knows only a lemon can make you fail.
Those who think tough waters are just as easy to sail
And they remain in high air,
We jumble up their minds with the musical chair.
The River
The river that crosses the high plain like
an artery has only muddy water since it
didn´t rain in the summer.
Wild horses and donkeys come here to
drink, but often they look up and scan
the horizon weary of man and his dogs.
They served mankind for thousands of
years but with modern farming methods
they are no longer needed and have gone
feral. Free now, but freedom comes at
a prize, winter can be hard and often they
are hunted by sportsmen who kill for fun.
By the mountain there is a corral but only
the stupid and sick go there, the rest know
they are fattened up and used as sausage
meat, which the town uphill is famous for.
Every Octobers there is a gigantic party in
the hill town, beer is senselessly drunk and
tons of sausages eaten, the river, that crosses
the plain, becomes a putrid pool of human
waste till winter rain falls and clears it away.
What is this idea of excellence
Where “Good enough” just can’t stay?
What is it in man that makes us plan
To strive deeper inside each day?
What secret whisper abides within
Drawing us to mountain peaks
Transcending possibilities
And incomprehensible human strength?
What the early Greeks once called arate’
A yearning deep within;
The spirit of us all to heed the call
To rise above nimbus winds.
And tornadoes turning, always yearning
For something uplifting ahead;
Misfortune, defeat is the fate one meets
Or unfathomable greatness instead.
For doctors, dancers, farmers,
Masons and carpenters, too,
Teachers of subjects from highways to heaven
Do the best that they can do.
As philosophers, statesmen, presidents
And sportsmen of all kinds,
Artists, musicians and astronauts
Sail through space and time.
And what makes soldiers lay down their souls
That others might live instead;
To take the fall and give their all
Last measure of life they led?
Does anyone know how avatars grow
Or gold is purged from stone?
Excellence, I hear, is never so clear
As the higher one strives
to go.
Above the clouds are buffalo aplenty
Shot by whites as Native Americans cried
The tribes made use of all portions of their prey
European settlers only sought their hides
Palin bragged of killing moose as a young child
Did this tough meat truly feed her family
Perhaps their heads were displayed o’er a fireplace
And Palin’s explanation -- chicanery
A dozen ducks once roamed a wooded forest
First babes, then mother, lost their lives to sportsmen
It makes you wonder who could eat so many
More likely targets for those with a killing yen
Early man killed only to survive the wild
Natural order brings hunters into play
There’s no “sport” in killing for other reasons
Souls of those needlessly killed rise above the fray
Staring down in sadness as others are shot
Where is the logic and the humanity
In amassing trophies while chugging down beer
Who can stop this carnage caused by vanity
For Constance’s “I Am Sending You a Gift of Poetry, Dear Heart” contest
Inspired by “In a Patch of Heaven” by Constance~A Rambling Poet~
Written by Diane Locksley
Alligators never blink
Bewitching their prey with stares
Creatures submerged in the night
Deep divers holding their breath
Easily hiding away
Fearing their discovery
Generations have wrestled
Hesitant charms and potions
Investigating danger
Joking and trying to calm
Killing them before they kill
Left in the depths of despair
Maimed combatants cannot run
Never to be seen again
Open mouths beg for a chance
Places in the heart, pulsing
Questioning real sanity
Responsibile sportsmen wait
Sensual dangers are near
Trusting in dark destiny
Understanding nothing now
Visions of regret seep in
Wilting melodies of life
Xylophone percussions sound
Yellow horizons steaming
Zero time to turn back now
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