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Aburi, A Haven

I walk through the road of centinal
Palm trees giving shade from the kindle
Of the noon sun, creating shade where only sun lit.

I look upon their majestic trunks
As elegant as a giraffe’s
Reaching into the sky, touching the heavens.

Once you reach the road’s end,
The vista of greens will land
You in a mirage of breathtaking scenes.

A short walk and you’ll reach
Boti Falls, distinguished with two chutes that leach
Into a large aquamarine pond that sizzles

With the force of the downpour,
And hides a cavern behind its ominous core,
That provides electricity and life to all nature.

Moving past such wonder,
You see man’s touch in greater
Spans of space, where a decrepit helicopter

Lies as stage for tourists and the picnickers
To look upon an antique object of wars,
Used to help beautify what’s already astounding.

I watch the centinals in my rearview mirror,
Wondering at my next visit to such a conqueror
Of beauty and memories of times yonder.

By Malakkc

I'm a Canadian whose life has been interesting as I've lived in Developing countries and here. The contrast of law, order, and amenities available to us Canadians (which we take for granted, sometimes) to war torn civil wars is enormous. It leaves an influence upon the soul that cries out for justice. My poetry and writing reflect that and more.

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