FEATURE ARTICLE

Augustine C. OhanweSunday, June 7, 2015
chyinaho@yahoo.com


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DOWN THE MEMORY LANE (Poem)

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ears do really gallop as horses do;
and events, sweet and disquieting
accompany time, as intimate companion,
but memories of them etched on the mind exist sill,
and have refused to perish as tomatoes do.

How do these memories come to the fore?
Though gone with years, and all its thrills no more,
still they stand dear to me and with tender joy
do I stir and invite the beauteous scenery
and events to flood the screen of my mind.

I remember my quiet serene exit from the glittering city,
bustling with life and activities,
to the world of wonders and silent peace
where hungry souls find repose
and truth cannot be distorted and mingled with fable .

I recollect still, with a thrill
the sweet memories at Costa Brava Playas with She.
There was an excitement from watching the ocean waves
as they rolled high to a crescendo and roared down with a splash,
pushing out debris along shorelines
and gathering sands back to the oceanís womb,
spreading wet winds to she and me.
We dodged its splashes and churns
but listened to its grasping, rumbling sound
and the crashing rhythms of its song
as we walked barefoot along the beach.
A fish thrown up on the beach,
leaping and squirming to regain the ocean
captured our pathetic look.

I remember the fascination we felt,
by the sight of a flock of white and grey seagulls
that hovered, screamed and squawked about,
and the graceful pelicans swallowing their catch.

I remember with a throb, the off the beach
and into the womb of the forest moment
where ears that tuned in could listen to the voiceless sound
of nature as it sang the hymns of history,
and appreciate natureís pure air, and sweet scent
of itís therapeutic herbs that soothe jitters.

I remember still how we stared with protruding eyes
at the sight of a small black snake that had coiled its body
and glued to a huge rock, itís head rested on itís body,
and itís forked tongue vibrating and hissing,
and my sheís scream disturbed the creature
and it slithered into a squat bush.

I can see how one fluttering butterfly got caught
in a stretchy and gummy spider web that hung like a gossamer silk
and the clever weaver of the web sped near the victim,
immobilized, silk swathed and wrapped it for dinner.
Achill came over me as the creatureís obituary
was composed in a twinkle of an eye.

I remember how we sat on the delightful hilly landscape
adjacent to the tranquil lake to savour its scenic view,
throwing pebbles in the lake
and watching the ripples they created with joy.
Thrilled, watching a couple of fish jumped out the rippling lake
and plunged back in acrobatic style.
Fascinated by dragons as they moved about
the lush vegetation around the lake.
Admired how detached leaves swirled, wound, twirled and spiraled
in the air until they fell, carpeting the ground,
forming an exquisite mosaic of beautiful hues
in what seemed their resting cemetery.

I remember the barefoot walk along a winding forest path
and how the sudden scuttle of a rabbit across our path
scared my she and in her panicky mood ran a thorn into her right foot
and I used my nail to pull the thorn out.
I can see on my mindís screen how we stood and gawped
at flies mating on a glossy green leaf.
Felt entertained by squirrels playing hide and seek,
and listened with joy, to the pleasant buzzing of the bumble bees.
Approaching sunset shadow tolled the bell of our exit
from the world of undying charm and irresistible attraction.

Cheered by natures wanders,
we left for home with a silent farewell to nature
as the enchanting setting sun unfurls its tapestry
of colours and beauty in sunset.
Methinks beauty resides not in the mind of the beholder
but in the object, it requires an enlightened eyes
to discover and appreciate it.

June 6, 2015

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