From the clematis bower and the twisted brake
Bring every blowing bud you can trace,
But you will never find a flower
That compares to a Ghanaian Rose.
Even though it is rural and alone,
It blossoms with more grace than a city.
It has a grin on its face and a dewdrop in its heart.
The Land of Soninke warriors
Of Kwame Nkrumah, a lion’s heart
Who weathered through the dark crevices
Of colonial chains in agonies and perils
To carry the beacon of the red, yellow, green; black star.
A land of gold, kente and oral folks
Sublimed into the sweet memory of African mirth.
Along the wind, across the sea,
Want to equal the Ghanaian sway,
Where will one get a sceptre to flutter and plough with?
Her freedom protects the Reign of Law, And Majesty of Man;
Her conscience holds the world in awe, with blessing or with ban!
Read – Poet-stress – A Poem by Tabitha Munyoki, Kenya
