Nana S. ACHAMPONG Poems

I used to anticipate the rain on my brain
Streaking lightly, comforting, the confused winds therein,
Like deliberate dabs, delicately intended for primed canvas.
But not this moment…no, not the rain;
...

Tis a brand new Week, and You are its fresh Seed;
In this Spring season, with its rising Sounds,
Let your flaws float and cultivate your Love to sprout.
...

I pondered on a wish,
Tossed beauty in my mind,
And I stroked my brush
...

[Cairo, Egypt 1997]

as I sat here
playing melodies on my mind
...