"THE DAWN" Poetry By Musty Mustapha
I saw him pass as the new day dawned,
Murmuring some musical phrase,
Horses were drinking and floundering in the pond,
And the tied stars thinned their gase;
Yet these were not the spectacles that he coined,
But an inner one, giving rays
Such was the thing in his eye walking there,
The very and the visible thing,
A close light displaying the gray of the morning air,
And the tokens that the dark was talking wing;
And was that not the radiance of a purpose rare that might ripe to its accomplishing?
What became of the light?
I wonder still its fate!
Was it quenched ere its full opogee?
Did it struggle frail and frailer to a beam emaciate?
And if its thrive till matured in variety,
Did it travel on to be a new young and thence on infinity?....
The pleasure of the dawn can raise the lamp of progress even when man strive from the Depth of the ocean.
(By: Musty Mustapha)