A Song Of The Silent Poem by Phillip Nine Mafunga

I love listenin' to the sound of the reading of my work
But to the wind, would ne'er let my intellect twerk
For those oblivious of their own thoughst'll al'az of nothing, fret

On the crests of winds, a fool straddles reason like a spoilt brat
The wise recline on the feet of the great
As rivers swell, so does my heart with no regret

A song of the silent
Sung from a heart of the non-violent
The shrill voices of the birds of the wild, the non-equivalent

I've found friends in the pages of the books
Some roam the pages like crooks
But I'm ne'er alone, with all these characters n' spooks

I love listenin' to the sound of the reading of my work
But to the wind, would ne'er let my intellect twerk
For those oblivious of their own thought'll al'az of nothing, fret
30 May 2022