{The Book Of Africa} Poem 9 |•| The Africa Thunderstorm.

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(Portray picture)👆👆

I dedicate Poem 9 to Tunde for constantly supporting me in every step and every work I do. I really appreciate it "Arsenal fan"😁😁.
All the love, S.💛

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From the west 
Clouds come hurrying with the wind 
Turning sharply 
Here and there 
Like a plague of locusts 
Whirling, 
Tossing up things on its tail 
Like a madman chasing nothing.
Pregnant clouds 
Ride stately on its back, 
Gathering to perch on hills 
Like sinister dark wings; 
The wind whistles by 
And trees bend to let it pass.
In the village 
Screams of delighted children, 
Toss and turn 
In the din of the whirling wind, 
Women, 
Babies clinging on their backs 
Dart about 
In and out 
Madly; 
The wind whistles by 
Whilst trees bend to let it pass.
Clothes wave like tattered flags 
Flying off 
To expose dangling breasts 
As jagged blinding flashes 
Rumble, tremble and crack 
Amidst the smell of fired smoke 
And the pelting march of the storm.
©David Rubadiri

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A/N
One more guys! I'm freaking out!😵😵

Don't forget to drop the title of your best poem in the comment box below. Remember, the first five people with the same poem as their best will get a S/O!

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