A poem for the evenings when you miss your loved one
This is my favorite piece of poetry I have ever written.
As I lay here, closed eyes, drifting away, rid of time, buried in thoughts. lost in memories, drowned in nostalgia, yet aching of tomorrow's dawn. As I float away, softly, gently, but swiftly, my mind knows no prison, my imagination ever unbound, these words a stream, these fingers stroke the keys, this screen mine reflection. Here I build castles, higher than the Babel, shinier than sea glass, carve these stone walls, polish the wooden doors, anchor my terraces, color these roofs teal. What are the borders? between my dreams and the future? detaching my hopes and reality? between my whispers and my writing? separating my fears and my bold? As I paint my dreams and future, I notice my reality has merged in. Sharon Jepng'etich
Bright light, crashing down, My eyes blinded momentarily. tis darkness shrouding me, swept away like violent waves in the sea, like it never existed, like it wasn't part of me. I stand here, unmoving, feet planted on the ground, A million lights all rushing towards me, the chill has deserted me, will you crash into… Continue reading For I Love You
My website is called August Raindrops. Two of my favourite things about life. I absolutely love the name of my birthday month and love the rain even more. Yes, this is in fact my birthday month. On the 28th of August, I celebrate my 32nd birthday. I have yet to decide what I should do… Continue reading Of Words That Sting
I think I can see you now, for a while back there, I thought this mind made you up. Because how could you be so perfect, So glorious, so bright, so precious? You who holds me so dearly, You who trusts me so completely, You who smiles at me so radiantly, You, my darling, my… Continue reading You are here, aren’t you?
Believe me, this is NOT the first book that introduced me to African literature. I don't remember which was the first one. My mother is an English literature teacher. We read novels the moment we learned to read. Our house was always filled with storybooks she borrowed from the school library. We grew up in… Continue reading Mine Boy – Peter Abrahams
He opened the curtains. It was a cold frigid morning. Grey skies mirrored his mood. He wished it would rain. He could drown in the rain. He could race in it and maybe catch pneumonia. He closed his eyes and imagined the feeling. The congested chest, the difficulty breathing, the promise of death just a… Continue reading The Old Colonial House in the Woods
It's drizzling lightly outside. The rain seems too shy to hit the ground. It looks like she is flirting with it. A drop here and there as she retracts before falling once again. Light as a feather. But I know better you see. It's the light drizzles that soak their way in. These are the… Continue reading This Little Apartment Of Mine
Listen, I know a place, you will like it too, come along now, watch your feet, these treacherous roots snare. look over there, see the lone acacia? there is a rock underneath, yes dear, that is our destination, hold my hand, careful now. Look down there, the huge mango trees, heavy with yellow fruit, greening… Continue reading Under The Lone Acacia Tree
It's a bright day outside with the sun drying the damp from the rainy night. You know how beautiful the sunny days are following the rains? The sky is clear, and the dust is all cleared. Everything looks greener. May is a month I have never truly felt anything for. I don't romanticize it like… Continue reading Hi, It’s A Beautiful May