The Ghost Of Grandpa Poem by Mbusya Wa Mbusya

I cut sheet of sweat from the brows,
The sun has been burning down my farms,
Mbooni hills vaporized to heat and smoke,
It reminds one day of youth and being broke,
And the river Nthuaini was soggy and salty,
Now, I suffer all those memories so paltry;
An old man has died and the mood is tense,
It is full moon, dry, but still no offense,
A forlorn bush baby cries hysterically,
We pause to mourn the death of an ally,
And from cloudless night, it begins to rain,
Profusely.
Then...
Anticipatingly,
You could feel thunder,
Some men would shudder,
I knew deep in my heart
From the Way I felt heat,
It was his ghost in stupor,
The holy ghost of my grandpa!