In the twilight's hush, beneath the moon, my mother's stories would bloom of ancient lands and forgotten lore, of heroes bold and treasures galore.

She spoke of Ananse, the trickster spider, Who weaved his webs with cunning and guile and Nyame, the sky god, mighty and wise, who watched over us with benevolent eyes.

She told me tales of brave warriors and wise elders, of princesses pure and spirits untold. Of magical creatures that roamed the land, and the power of love to hold us in hand.

Her stories filled my heart with delight, and painted my dreams with stardust bright.They taught me lessons of life and truth, and the importance of courage and youth.

Oh, the stories my mother told me, as a younger African child, will forever be etched in my soul, treasures precious and wild.

Thank you, Mother, for your gift of stories, for opening my eyes to the world's glories. Your words will guide me on my life's journey, and inspire me to dream with boundless fury.