The Bowl Of Contentment

Oh! Africa, You have baked me black
In the oven of your Sahara,
The attribute of resilience.

You have quenched my thirst
In the bowl of your Nile.
You have elevated me
On the pinnacle of Kilimanjaro,
Showing me the vastness of your endowments.

I'm drowning in the luxuries of your Mediterranean.
I'm lying drunk upon your horns,
The remaining bowls of wine
Meant to chill the heat of corruption within you,
And to heal the scars of bad governance.

You have fed with contentment.
And the gratitude of your red soil
Has filled my basket with grains.

I know now what you are Africa;
The happiness that blooms our heart,
A small bird singing on a mango tree
As visioned by papa Abioseh Nicol.

Africa! you are like beads tied around my waist,
Meant to diminish my wants abroad,
Where brothers long to plough,
Ignorant of the beauty of your soil.

But I will tell them!
I will tell them!
To appreciate the beauty within you,
To summon courage in their leftover minds
And revive your dying soil.