Awake Ghana !
Feel th’ sunshine
The sun; no longer sweet after nine
Along cozy halls th’ sluggard gladly snore
Yet also a passionate Jamestown-folk
Rolls his skiff
Yonder the bluish waters.
Up up sluggard! And yawn!
And quick ―Away to toil
Else you’ll grow long hands
Thy desert pocket as brown as harmattan roof
Morning fortunes sprinkles b’fore sun-hot
Go! Seek th’ world’s most gentle hustle
For th’ sun―a heartless beast after nine.
©Awuah Mainoo Gabriel
African-spear
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