To Africa (While I Was There In The Desert Sands…) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Come here rise with me
Mornings of the heart
Love is sweet and free
From the hours start
Given in to rise
Glowing new sky
Nowhere gray’s disguise
In its stepping high

Over clouds that drift
Every curtain line
Up and up to lift
To make new sunshine
Tangling the rust
On earth's field
Ages to coming dust
Stories are still wheeled

Through the open door
Every aspect goes
Riches and what they store
Wealth of green grows
Mother Nature’s thrill
Deserts sands that blaze
To new dreams fulfill
Your irresistible bright ways


*(The poem above was put up as it is, because I fell once in love with a poem called:

Africa

Written by Maya Angelou

Thus she had lain
sugercane sweet
deserts her hair
golden her feet
mountains her breasts
two Niles her tears.
Thus she has lain
Black through the years.

Over the white seas
rime white and cold
brigands ungentled
icicle bold
took her young daughters
sold her strong sons
churched her with Jesus
bled her with guns.
Thus she has lain.

Now she is rising
remember her pain
remember the losses
her screams loud and vain
remember her riches
her history slain
now she is striding
although she has lain.)