African Daughter
The howling wind woke her up,
The loud slaps that the unforgiving rain gave her window kept her up.
All her life she was taught not to fear the storm,
But how could she not be afraid when she couldn’t see past her window,
She let her thoughts take form and she got lost in them.
She was the typical African daughter,
Her beauty was a gift from above,
With her gracefulness making even the iroko tree look like a sapling,
Her smile as golden and warm as the morning sun,
Her hair as black as the fertile earth,
She steps as gracefully as the bata dancer, You could almost never tell she was there, if she didn’t want her presence announce
She protects her kind with the ferocity of the Lion,
And with pride like the Peacock.
The African Daughter is the true child of the soul,
Her mother’s best friend,
Her father’s priced jewel, the apple of his eye.
She’s all these and more.
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