Beneath the pavilion
Cool air embracing
Mind borne in valley
Ears in cheer thrust
Eyes embrace melodious scenery
Milky waves of emotion high
Flood the streets in luminous bliss
The YAM festival is well nigh
A celebration of fulfilled season
Hence the dance and song incessant
The night hereby deemed unpleasant
For likes of grandma curled in disgust
Her sleep had well met riddance
Even her wails in futile sunk
Her's was a time in yore ages
Tales of their ways bids our awe
Stories even time dare not wane
Whence farmers, to the gods
Their biggest harvest are brought
In honour of promise afore made
'With my reapings shall gods be praised'
The sky weeps hence in acceptance
A new season is again born
To the beauty of a feast
And the splendour of local rums.
new season again born. I like it. good write. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like the YAM, the harvest festival celebrated to praise God for the prosperity brought to people in Nigeria, the Tamils in the southern end of India celebrate Pongal Festival in the middle of January. Tamil New Year begins and the Winter season gets ready to bid bye.Briefly and beautifully described YAM in this poem.