William Eke Poems

Come Brother,
Shall we sheathe our swords
And play this game of many words
With this lineage of wise men
...

I have come to lush grass and twin ant-hills
Mounting red, and butterflies with no cares
Dancing over flowers that would scarce hold still.
...

What strength of will lay deep and hard
Keen to quench as invisible dew
Borne on wild blades of grass this thirst
For the glistening ripeness of your flesh;
...

Rising at dawn
With holy eyes fastened forward,
What visions distill downward
From whence the compass points,
...