Make me smile
prayers
nomadic
sons of women
my heart bleeds
Poetry Poem
heroism
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nomadic
In his short pants
And a long stick
Running here and there
Trying hard enough to be
in control.
With his open flap shirt
Flying through the bush
Being a real bushman
Placing his flocks together
Not to breach a lasting bond.
Flying his striking armory
His truly life companion
that keep him in position
of real pride and power
among his peers
His menacing stick,
His flocks of goats
His herds of cows
Comprehend his hissing message
The way you understand when your
Body needs nourishment.
Distance never makes him fear
To visit relatives he enjoy
His journey, mind not the length
Of his trots,
Or even the dangers that can be
beholds him.
His spouse is so much
Protected and manifested
Always as patient as his lame
Dog his just other friend.
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nomadic
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