Dews on Wasteland by Samuel James

Is there aught so pregnant and potent

As the wondrous embodiment of young breasts?

Springing forth the green seed of heavy lightness

Where harsh winds and storms do quietly rage,

Ceasing when some queer calmness speaks peace

In cheerful hours of hale and hearty company.

Like dews which on wastelands drop at morn

Their spirits are roused from pure innocence’s bed

To stand still and with misty fears behold wide

The world which rough and rowdy oft’ turn.


Would that we all remain in this sweet stage.

But all too soon is spent and flicked as filth;

The simple leaves all eyes bewildered anon

And in stinging frustration lashes out!




*Aught – anything

*Oft’ – often

*Anon  – at once


About the poet:

Samuel James studies for a degree at the department of English, University of Ibadan, Nigeria.


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