The Gold Coast Bazaar

There is always the land,

And all filled with fertile sand;

You can feel them with hands;

You know, it’s not second hand.

Right through the lone desert,

You can see it’s so perfect,

Where you can grow dessert

To build the growing sects;

And make a gloom effect.

The shores are one to it;

You can feel it within,

Rivaling with so much fish;

To make ready the dish!

High River falls of forms,

Top of high mountain rocks

And fervent lowland docks

Are rhythms where I’m from!

But all of these are traded,

Most of which under graded;

The gold and all we graded

Are gone through Coastal Traders.

© Amerasb Pikin 2017

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