Let the beauty flourish

Let the beauty flow

I have always wondered how people get to write beautiful love poems, love stories. Where do they get their inspiration?  How do those words get to flow so easily on paper? How the keyboard listens to their fingers and letter falls into place, forming beautiful sentences, lovely paragraphs. Few years back I said; “the day I'll be inspired by love I'll tell the world of its beauty.” But such beauty don't seem to be written. I have experienced love (friendship, family, self, all love) but the beauty of these words do not want to escape my thoughts. My fingers do not cooperate with how I'm feeling. What goes on paper is not what I'm thinking.  

Child of the African Soil

Africa Day

I was moulded from the very sands of my land.

The colour of my skin constitutes of every shade of the soil, blended together to create the right shade, the right tone, the right glow.

The sun rays illuminates the beauty of the African child. It accentuates every aspect of the African child, every pore oozes of perfection.  Every blemish radiates the true beauty of Africa.