Quame Boatmann Poems

She walks like one with valour
She works like one with power
And her voice, like one with harper
She smiles like one with dollar
...

Gone are the days of our forefathers
where civilization had not begun
a child had no place in the gathering of elders
...

As I walk on the silent road
Weary of this long restless journey
A journey along the dry desert
Though endless as eternity
...

We were offered heaven and hell
We should have taken caution
For we could have spat on hell
But we realized not the option
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A glance of my yesterday,
Aches my soul
A reflection of my past,
Bows my head in shame
...

Will the church ever change?
Its beginning was like a rose flower
Blossomed bright red soft petals
With fresh moist emerald sepals
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Life isn’t eternal, we’re not immortals
Three scores and ten years
We’ll leave these temples
Not by our will, else we linger
...

‘Can I get a ride? ’
Stood your hail of pride,
With the sun burning you up
Your feet weary, and your gut dried up
...

She called me like a cab
Right hand in pocket
Left hand says come
From road’s other side
...

You are the one I’m to be with
Throughout my entire life
So as to accept me
Even after my corruption
...