The Young Sentinel Poem by Mosi Mustapha Gomina

A tale is told of a young sentinel
Who crevassed the ice and into it, fell
And landed in meadows of white and green
With winged horses in a gold-coloured stream.
And when he felt the faint impulse to speak,
His lips were sealed and his body was bleak.
Then came thereafter, the voice of a flute
That quivered his essence and made him mute.
Just when he felt a kick upon his hand
And the echoing murmuring of a lamb,
The horses vanished and so did the stream.
He saw not his lady; 'twas all a dream.