Michael Popoola Poems

African cultural base
'home of unique heritage
'check the Pharol’s array
'compass the boundary
...

When I was below the mountain
I cried aloud for helping hand
Tears narrow down my humble face
I weep like a sounding cymbal
...

A long way that has not been trampled upon
A narrow path that is not easy to pass
An undulated terrain that is difficult to run
Endurance is the key, it keeps you on
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Our close friend I remember
Moonlighting tale of the past
Bees is always busy
Bees produce honey
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It looks so long I remain standing
I wait in my state yet I believe
All may seem rough and tough
Yet will I keep my standing hope
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When the houses are but without gates,
When goods were left without charms,
When wisdom lies truly with elders
When the gases do not pollute,
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Ting! Ting! ! Ting! ! !
Songs of the liberal,
Melody of great birds...
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It was a deep tear,
parading the entire river course,
seen the vegetative cover with eagle eye,
people with great inheritance,
...