I shared this poem last year also and it is several years old, but the third verse is brand new. Enjoy.
AN AFRICAN CHRISTMAS
Why sing we songs of mistletoe?
Why exalt we the pure white snow?
What meaning, tell, Rudolph's red nose?
What romance bears fireside repose?
In an African Christmas?
Why not dream of harmattan air?
Why not laud bluest atmosphere?
Extol the smell of burning grass,
Sing of dust, not frost on glass
In an African Christmas
Why spend so on tinkling bells?
Why gorge 'til your belly swells?
The lust of things, halt, dispel.
The true Yule tale we must tell well
In an African Christmas.
It's not the seasons of the year
That shape the wondrous Christmas air,
But Mary's infant meek and mild.
Praise then, all men, the Holy Child
In an African Christmas.
Oladejo Fabolude
