Up The Hills And Dales Of Africa Poem by Chukwuemeka Ezeamalu

Up in the hills and its dales of Africa's wide,
And thru the thick and thin of her greens, where
The swiftest wings and fearless beasts, live
And yon flow the living stream endlessly,
So, we would walk horizons to fetch tirelessly

As the day waned and the early dusk swallowed
The scorching sun, then the young moon followed
And lit our hearts with buoyancy to sing like birds
While the owl rest still to count our moving shadows
Coiling on trees and straighten through the meadow

Clay pots we foster rest on heads and o'er flowed with
Aqua pura; though, too dear as gold to waste a drop
Yet, often are our feet bashed on unearthed roots
To sour our sweetest song with shattered clays
But the heart of Africa feels and thus we always share.