Whistling foggy wind blows
From the sahara desert in Africa
Across the savannah grassland
Deep down into the tropical rain forests
Covering the tropics like a sheath
Dust rises to the air space
Skies becomes blind and blurred
Rivers congeal along their courses
Cool dry harsh wind blows
Descends harsher in the morning
Recedes daily at noon
Giving way to sunshine and heat
Making a bold return with fierce knocks
Like a desperate stranger knocking the door
From October to March
North-East wind oscillates
Between cold and dry heat
No one dare open the door ajar
For this harsh wind
With sobriquet known as harmattan
That blows across our land yearly
Really nice. I can just imagine being there with the wind blowing, very descriptive.
What a wonderful poem, Babatunde. I probably will never go to Africa but in this poem, you have brought the taste to my lips as if I am there. Only in my dreams have I walked through a tropical rain forest or felt the heat of such strong sunshine. It must be hard to combat that dusty wind, I would have to wear something to cover my face. How exciting, thank you for the poem. I have saved it to my computer under your name for safe keeping.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i too have no plans to travel in africa......especially now that i see your area, at least, has unwelcoming winds! thanks for the warning. and thanks for sharing. i will send more comments via a message.