e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

Sonnet: Seasons in African

Over here we don’t say winter
Or make use of the word; summer

You might have springs and autumn
But we both fancy flowers on tomb.

We can tell, the type of season
From rays, when the sky is crimson.

Down south it pours as it rains for sure
Meaning the Sun shield its sword.

As soon as the rainy season stops
The soil dries up, and so do crops…

Seasons change, nectars for bees
We don’t feel the scorch you see;

From Sahara, Harmattan wind blows.
While you celebrate Christmas in snows.

© https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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