Christmas
The sky beams, birds sing, Butterflies and grass dance in The heavenly grace. The dark clouds are gone. The trees now undressed can bathe In warmth of the sun. Bees flit between buds, Kissing the tender lips of Petals for nectar. Fragrance and aromas Waft through the harmattan haze. It’s the season’s meet: Where herons inspect The hide of grazing cattle In the fields for fleas; Kids with bright eyes check Every pack dad and mum bring back For shiny new stuff. Grace meets greed; love lust: Like the dry season’s brightness, God’s love shines on us. (The verse is taken from my collection, 'Colours {of Life, Love and Faith}'.)