In an alien space, miles away from home, <br />Searching for a place where the land is loam. <br />Wandering high and low like tide in the sea, <br />Searching for leaves of the golden tree. <br /> <br /> <br />Leaves of the golden tree, leaves of bliss <br />Some shed in the harmattan, into the abyss. <br />Even when I am standing in this bower, <br />Eluding me still, the leaves shower. <br />While I cry, some children dance in a large meadow <br />And a farmer embarks on the journey to Eldorado. <br /> <br /> <br />In the dimness of the early morning's glow, <br />Hastening his footsteps, clutching his hoe, <br />The farmer walks towards his farm, his Eldorado. <br />For in his heart does he know <br />To plant the golden seed, to start the plough, <br />The time is ripe, the time is now.<br /><br />Warrith Olawale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/leaves-of-the-golden-tree/
