Ewe Lamb Poem by Edward Kofi Louis

Ewe Lamb



The mother of our mothers and,
The father of our fathers;
Fed my lamds,
For i need seven men of reputation in this town.

Feed my sheep and free my mind,
Bring forth fruits worthy of repentance;
And to a place called Golgotha,
Because, i have left my cattle over there!

The governor's ear,
'Yli! Yli! Lamah Ozabatiny'! !
But, the dead know nothing.

This is like a spirit impersonationg Samuyl!
But give glory and praises to Yahweh;
Being very swift and just in your doings,
And like Naaman the Syrian.

The soft spot!
Seduced by a woman;
But the dead returns to the dust,
And like my little Ewe Lamb in the land of your muse.

Walls,
Towers,
Gates,
Bars;
With plenteous meat to satisfy my guest,
But, the eagle hastens to eat!

The people of Nkroful,
Nkrumah's hometown;
And of the fruit of their doings,
But, let there be an alliance between us.

Ethbaal, Bethel, Ethel;
With cakes of pressed figs to eat;
But, this beautiful appearance is like a woman! !
And like the poor man's Ewe Lamb in the land of your muse.

You did this in secret,
But i will do it in broad day light! !
And like a camel at Mount Carmel;
But, Yahweh does not get angry.

A mocking proverb,
A tauting parable,
A comstructive riddle;
Swimming things have no ruler!
But a glittering spear is in your hand,
And like the rich man's large flocks and herds.

This poem is like the feast of a king,
And like two skins of wine;
This poem is like the feast of a queen,
And like the atmosphere between the skies and the ground;
But naked and barefooted to touch your hearts with words of understanding,
Because, you have now got the meat of my only Ewe Lamb! !

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Edward Kofi Louis

Edward Kofi Louis

Accra, GHANA
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