The Guava sheds our little playground from the scorching sun The flowers fall on our heads and gave the look of a fine bride There is a family of brown green mantis on the leaves of the Guava Savoring the sweet fragrance of the flower and the open air The Guava is our citadel, it…

We have smiled We have loved We have done all needed to be done And the last fruits of harvest were sown The harmattan is yet to come after all But the brown clay has repainted the walls Hot is the heat of the sun on the laborers back But to his grain stores he…

I fall back to my bed, each night with hope on my breast Twinkle became the blinking of stars up the skies When the cold that burn all peoples chunk of fat And the sight of the solemn clouds are manna to the eyes The grim colors of the falling darkness gather Moths, ants, earwigs,…

Twinkle… There are wings on the air On a dark, very dark night Twinkle… But the wings move from their lairs Glowing colors hued black and white Twinkle… The appearance seldom come so rare Twinkling into the gravely dark night Twinkle… The night is cold and dark, the night is bare But if you watch,…

You walk against the fast wind, your hair fall beside your haste Down it rolls, flowing with the strong wind down your waist All these while the swift wind and your fine hair go about their romance

Originally posted on Oke’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places: Kokookoroko kokorokoro A greeting called from afar The children ran out excited As if the message was for them But then who knows? Heads up, listen attentively Komkom korookom Another beat rang out Pushing the mild hit Into the ears of even the heaviest village…

Listen, listen… For I am about to make a poem Of what you may ask? I do not know…

Now when our face grow older And wrinkles come, Will you remember once this lively smile I wore? Will you remember how I made faces and winked at you? The ages came and went, the sun and her toil on us But will you remember the youth which we savored? When we walk faintly And…

We are that patch of hope That grow like the jute rope And we are the sunlight, We are a mild climate We are the Cassava We are Enyimba We are the Jos Plateau Having mornings and dew, Evenings and the moonlight We are the bees and the locust We are a culture Of enterprise,…

Father I thank You I thank You for the airs come to me For the light and colors my eyes see I thank You for the noises of people I hear And the garments You gave me to wear The cloud wore a white garment The future we see is very bright The earth herself…

Prologue: There was this tale my old granny told the children She will always say “Listen my children, listen.” And we; little, full of curiosity will look up patiently Then it was usual before each tale to play about In the strong moon light which swept the garden In between the plays, we wrestled and…

Ecstacy is beauty It is a feeling formed to feel A scent, a wish, a moment A flower, a dinner, a kiss maybe Which undescribable, won’t stay For it is just a sweet mirage Like a fine deer on the forest, In the quiet hunting season The deer ate thru yellow hay And when the…

Let the world fall before Thee, The One who rule the Earth and the Sea And drags the wind like as a child will his toy The plants You let germinate on the grey soil With Your great hand You made man in Your image And yet You made the fullness of the Earth man’s…

I want to sing of the butterfly That roam the green garden Happily she glide with the air Watching the sun shine in the noon And waiting to fly to other lands Where the sunflower glows when the sun shine I want to sing of undying hope The harbinger of light, smokeless Like an infinite…

Okay I recall vividly when I was younger and I wore skirts cos I forgot to get some trousers for the long holidays and I traveled to place where I couldnt get trousers or shorts. Then I played with other kids wearing skirts like the Scottish, just that I had no pipe to play. I…

Sunny, lazy Sometimes muddy Full of weary trees Tree stumps And overlapping tree branches The green and brown mix, Part of the enclosures. Quiet in the noon In the heat of the day And the hustle of survival The streams are green with mold And the pathways are sticky with mud But the fun of…