Sonnet
From far, back I have come
To their surprise, I brought a dove,
Happy they were, everyone at home,
And a nest they weaved for her, what a love!
My brother, a smith, made her a golden ring.
Love and compassion led her out of bond
To the sky she soars up — her song to sing.
Between us no frictional touch, but fine fond;
In her crops-pasturing afoot she walks,
While our eyes tendering on her steps, lest treading a hook
For we all feel unease to a cause she crawls,
And our heart pounds to the eagle nasty look;
Always she roosts in her nest to avoid the rain,
And when get wet, in the sun she stands to drain.
©® Muhammad Abdulhamid Kumo
April, 2024
#SpringHearted
#AlaSuperQuote
I’m sure I was dreaming.
I could never afford to travel
To the most beautiful island
The world could provide.
Yet there I was swimming
In warm clear aquamarine seas.
Out on the sand the view was stunning.
Houses built on the sea itself,
An aroma of shellfish and chicken
Filled the pure air. I was hungry.
But I had no money, dressed in a bathing suit.
Someone called me and I was offered
A plate of aromatic food.
I ate it slowly, savoring delicious victuals.
Then my newfound friend took me for a walk.
I saw purple crabs scuttling sideways
Whilst at the edge of a forest
So lovely and tender, some mousedeer
Were pasturing quietly in the shade.
Then I realised how hot the midday sun was.
And I woke on my bed, sweating.
It was bliss to linger under a shower.
Deer - A Haiku
tedious mountain
A small, romantic deer runs
beyond the petal
~
mountain tedious
A wild, pasturing deer runs
through hills and valleys
7/15/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
Hunger holds the reins, stimulating or stifling,
driving the plant to bend to the sun and root deep,
herding the roe deer toward unsafe pasturing;
hunger holds the reins.
An emptiness of desire unfed, ends fitful sleep
as moon-tossed men pull threads of sanity, hiding,
from deep within a memory of fullness creeps;
hunger holds the reins.
Mouths and stomachs, hearts and souls, all need minding.
Un-sated, they distort, deform, in rampant leaps,
so feed your needs in earnest or you'll be finding,
hunger holds the reins.
A road is going far
upwards to the north,
surmounting Russian bar –
drive by that host.
Through Petersburg the route –
the choice is nought
and if a passer-by says true –
the course is Vyborg.
And to a foreign part
we’re coming late.
The stars are shining hard
to foresee our fate.
The whole of Finland here
is not yet finish.
From Baltic beer –
it’s quickly vanished.
And stops in haste – oh, man,
to have a rest,
to aim at groin then
of a tremendous cat.
The roads are made of woods
and to the left – the sea
the mountains keep in hoods
all those who there can be.
The signs are everywhere
we’re taken by the view,
reindeers are pasturing there
we are stitched by their look.
The Swedish sun is watching
what we are looking for
and us who will be torturing
ahead two thousand more.