RONALD K SSEKAJJA Poems

Home, sweet home,

Home, sweet home,
There near the brown water river
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Travel with me pretty maiden
That skies may speak our mother-tongue
Hold my hand a little,
For when men close their eyes
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Well tell mother, her smile is a light
Its a flashing gold-ray from a sourse so bright
But if love is for love, then mother
You deserve the love, its blue, so blue
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Death caught me, past lines fading
And I met the eyes of my maker
And tell you what, it's quite chilling
Living past lines of the quiet seeker
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If for once you thought there was beauty
It's a lie that has crossed your thought's duty
Gold too holds dust
And iron too does rust
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Nyonjo

I remember it all, what they say
That Nyonjo would always remain
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Short verse is verse, if pink is not reverse
So tell me of the fire that lit up the desire
For am not wise but a fool
If nothing remains for me to pull
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Some have sought
These have spoilt
They did fight
And these have reaped
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The eagle flew by my head
And I know Every tide has it's ebb
And this thought is there
To heckle
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So shall i tell her of the time
The glorious moment of the rhyme
In that same day i held the wire
She, with such a chance borrowed the fire
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