FORTUNA MAJOR
Light, light pre-dawn shadow cast by silhouetted sentinels of stone,
A breeze awakens the waving grasses on moorland, ancient alone.
Your boat is ready bird-headed god the mighty serpent has lost again,
Your subjects blow out their lamps in the kingdom over which you reign.
A force most grave holds us in our daily orbit as fragile as a raindrop,
Each one held in place mid-air falls for an eternity and yet it will stop.
But whilst this time-frozen motion lasts a harmony exists among us,
Refracting rainbow coloured shards that cut the bonds to our smallness.
A Prince of Marvels appears like the splendour of the sun thru cloud,
In manifold colours, an agent of change in sun bleached desert proud
Bedouin you are master of your own destiny! Counting the days thus,
Your nomadic journey wanders sidereal,
To eclipse the soul Nigerian.
FORTUNA MINOR
Dashed from the lips of day the mead of life falls from sight,
A quiet prevails and high spirits adjourn for night.
The drunkard totters home like the turtle to his shell,
It is dark on earth but Sol illuminates hell.
































