Voyage Poem by Raheem Lyttle Kiyaga

As you in the genesis of mauvering,
The blue skies turn dark,
All comes to mind is rain,
With a novel wind from nowhere,
And waves wandering to your side,
Washing in and out you canoe,
Filling with water,
Water everywhere but
Not a dropp to drink!
Victoria would turn the sahara
Into a flourishing glassland.
Canoe anchored at sunset,
Till a new sun rises,
Cold night, and everyone freezing,
Prayers made, to yonder the tulmuous night,
Expectation of angels is null,
To take us away forward,
What a waste of water!
Not a dropp to cleanse eyes,
And thornhyacinth where we anchored.
Leaning on the rail yearning,
As the boat now heading towards a horizon,
Where the sky is light,
Seeming to hold out a vague
Promise of sunshine,
Rainbow curved in the sky,
Dark clouds fading slowly into the blues,
And the waves drowns into victoria.