A sonnet celebrating the first nation to break the colonial bond and its rich Asante heritage.
The kente loom weaves gold and crimson thread,
To tell the story of a stool of light,
Where Nkrumah spoke and led the way ahead,
To end the long and weary colonial night.
In Elmina, the stone still bears the scar,
Of doors of no return and salty tears,
But now the Black Star shines as freedom's star,
To guide the nation through the coming years.
The highlife beats within the Accra heat,
As fufu pounds and market women cry,
There is a rhythm in the dusty street,
That echoes underneath the tropic sky.
First-born of freedom, proud and ever bold,
Your heart is richer than your mines of gold.
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