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Nature At Call
Setting sun,
Twirlling west,
In scorching glee,
Upon all that scamper,
With no remorseful liniency,
As it rides over the lagged night, From yonder with feature promising,
Reflecting shadows in luminous hue,
Climbing hills with furtive bravity,
On hikes of limited distance,
And when it's bright and beautiful,
We're engrossed to its sufrance state,
Abidding as bidded by the creator,
The meadows, dainties and the yellow clovers,
Are though at pleasure,
Before winter wagon's near,
Autumn is an individual likeness,
We choose on positive reasoning,
Cuz it's nature hath we object,
And when it's gone that no man strive,
Our soul at war for what may forth,
That all heads that wander may bear peace.
poem
by
Folayemi Akande
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