Beauty in its raw form
Oh, blacks this is the norm
Creator send down a storm
For Africans makes me warm

A rare privilege, to belong
And of sweet memories, to be sung
Memories of security, the Gong
That alerts us all, old and young

Precious, while yet unrefined
Nature, still of course combined
Through torment, and more streamlined
For all conditions, God designed

To and fro, here will i reside
Together with beauty side by side
And otherwise never will i decide
Until Creator takes me from you to hide

by Adewole Olaniyi

Other poems of OLANIYI (5)

Comments (1)

The gong stands out, as the focus of the poem.