Poetry Series Short story

Reflection: A Cold World

An empathetic mindset and love are what we need for a better world.

It’s utterly monstrous weather out there. Each time the breeze touches my skin, I shudder and sneeze. I’m cuddled on the bed, clutching a phone in one hand in a dark room, too lazy to read or even find a light. No candlelight anyway. My windows and doors are shut tight, yet the cold still came through. I grab the blanket to cast it over the tips of my exposed foot. And to determine where the burst of wind came from. It’s a cold world, no doubt and a dark one for that matter. It’s a lonely world for those who can’t afford blankets.

The homeless have nothing literally. I’m left with thoughts for those who feel this cold but can’t afford a blanket or a roof. Life can be so cruel. I’m sure that someone needs help. Somewhere around the street corner, you will see them. I trust that some good people will consider giving out old blankets or get new ones for those who can’t afford it.

From my bed, I wish for the stars on a freezing night. I don’t know; maybe they could somehow warm the night for the homeless. I feel sickly: bitter tongued, laziness, fever, and headache, all signs and symptoms of a tropical illness. So no poetry for me tonight, just my thoughts and bed.

I ask myself this: If I under a roof can feel this sinister cold, how will the homeless manage? I hope that homeless children and women are safe in this weather. It’s unusual for me to sleep without thinking and praying for the less privileged.

If you havea bed and a roof, you should be super grateful. Let your empathy make people grateful to live. Remember the homeless in your prayers and almsgiving.

folklore Nature nature poems Pastoral

Amuse: A Letter to the Squirrels Living in my Roof

New landlords

Okay guys, I traveled to my country home or just say my village. I was welcomed by squirrels racing on the rooftop. I thought it was a cat at first but cats don’t fly on tree branches. I finally saw one skinny squirrel holding his chin. It wouldn’t wait for me to get my camera. Honestly I have heard about snakes on a plane, puss in boots but not squirrels on the roof. So I’m going to write a nutty letter to this squirrel mafia, terrorising my rooftop.

Nutty squirrels,

First of all, I’m not mad at you. I’m not in any way mad. I wouldn’t blame you too. Though I love trees, I blame them for growing too close to my house. The branches shoot over my roof and you now have a new playground for your family. Your tree-barn has become too little, not enough for your nut provision that you introduced your nuts to my rooftop. My roof is your barn now.

I arrived home to find you my roof’s new landlord. You brought your siblings and your kids maybe. And they are all naughty, yes they are nutty. You probably expelled some of the lizards that pack in to homes left for long. So you are up there, feeling invisible – out of my brooms reach. Throwing nuts through cracks down my room and bed. I sometimes wonder how you summoned this courage to live in my roof, exercising vigorously at my disadvantage. You squirrel is something else, beautiful and surprisingly strange. I had never seen squirrels live in rooftops.

During your noontime play, I caught a glimpse of you, holding your chin with those broom-like hands and maybe thinking about your nutty economy. Dear new landlord, I’m grateful that you sleep at night, just like myself. If not, I would burn this roof and watch your nuts disappear with it.

– A distressed squirrel tenant.

folklore lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry

Amuse: Pretty Tomatoes

Sometimes I smirk at myself,
They say I’m confused on what I feel,
But if I gave a tomato stalk a hug
Then maybe what they say is true
I laugh at myself…
When I arrest the kitchen
Searching for raw tomatoes
Which refused to grow in my garden
I’m angry, don’t ask why,
Not with myself, with those…
Oh pretty, lovely tomatoes,
Call it confusion if you may
But I know what I want
Just that my taste came at a time
My garden won’t let some grow

Africa lifestyle Nature Pastoral Poetry


See Mother Nature’s art
See her paintings, black and white
Behold gift of the rising sun,
The wind a prize to be won
So fly pet of the blue clouds
… and friend of the wind
Break forth from your cocoon
Hit the silky walls wide open
Fly away, you pretty butterfly
Travel farther away, up the sky
Make the breeze your companion
And sweet freedom your own
Shoot into the blue clouds
With your energy and pride,
Up the mighty skies where you belong,
Spread your beautiful, creamy wings
Set sail for the unknown North
Fly, away and find your warmth

Africa Nature

Amuse: Slow School Bus

Where’s that slow school bus?

Africa Poetry Uncategorized

Muse: Swift Stream

The blue stream flow swift
Three patient toads sit aghast
Waiting for the current to pass


Can you spell IF?

Please can anyone help these guys? 😅😂


A Tale of Two Rats

Gather around the fireplace

Sit and have some warmth

It is a cold night, is it?

But we must tell this tale

So listen to what I have to tell!


Once upon a Time and Place

In the great wilderness that lay away from the highway

And away from much civility, lived a very old woman

She was lonely, weak and frail but could fight anything

That strayed into her unkempt, dark and strange home

Listen, our tale is not about this woman but the rat

That defied all odds to live in her house

Now in the meeting of rats there was the house rats

And the bush rats, each respecting the others way of life,

Sometimes wishing that they could be in the shoes of the others

To see what life may be to them, since they only met during the meetings

Each time, the rats will brag about their homes and food

So the house rat living with the old lady had noticed the excitement

A new bush rat come from the deep forest had and took interest

He wanted to know why the bush rat was so excited living out in the cold

“Ey brother, ey what may be the reason behind your happiness?” He asked

“Oh, I see you haven’t noticed that the palm tree fruits are ripe

And soon the squirrel family will throw a daily feast to celebrate

And how lucky am I to be their closest neighbor on the floor!”

“Hmm, ey, will that be all to your excitement or is there another…?”

“Another reason being that the banana and tomatoes are ready for harvest

The birds will do a good job, but mostly we who live on the ground

May eat the best of their happy feast, ha!” He heartily laughed

“Well, what fun do you have burrowing in the mud?

Come to my place and I will make your excitement greater with better food!”

So the two rats reached a deal and after that meeting of rats

They sneaked away to the old woman’s lonely house

Up, down, up, down they galloped all day to the quiet house

At the entrance the house rat hushed the bush rat and bid

Him follow closely, so they tiptoed out of the hallway

Walking across the room, at the sound of the snoring woman

The bush rat startled, wondering what kind of beast greeted

The house rat quietly pulled him back and down the rat hole they went

“Geez, ey! What were you thinking?!” The house rat grunted

“Nothing serious. I always think and I was wondering if someone said hi”

So they waited till night fall and when the moon was up

So that her beautiful white lights shun through the curtains

The house rat woke the bush rat and off they went down the hall

Through the corner were brooms lay and the way towards the kitchen

At the doorway the bush rat perceived smell of good food

That he never had tasted or dreamt of, food oh majestic food!

He forgot himself and took some cheese in a fast bite

And it tasted so good that he ate again and again and again

Then came some pieces of chicken, some fruit salad cream

And chocolates and peanut butter and beef and toasted bread

“This must be Heaven,” he said with mouth full of bread

Meanwhile the house rat was busy filling himself too

And the noise they made woke the old lady who stole to the kitchen

With a swift swing she got the lights on and attacked the rats

Swearing, she struck the pots and plates and cups and everything on her way

At first, the house rat knew his whereabouts and soon disappeared

While the bush rat continued running around without a clue of an escape route

When the bush rat finally found a way out, he dove for it

The old lady could have been lucky

If the rats didn’t flee for dear lifes’ on time!

In the morning, before the chicken and the sun could wake

The bush rat thanked his friend and bid him well stay

In his home of fanciful plenty with no pint of peace


Muse: Love

First, meeting you was a play of fate

On the straight road, which drove West

Then you were my companion

But now you are my destination


Amuse: The Hen’s tale

First she walks for a while and then turns to stare…
She cackles, laughing at the appearance of these slim aliens
Wandering about, aimlessly, pushing all manner of carts 
And wearing all manner of fleshy things that smell awful
One thing is peculiar: these humans change their skins each day,
And it is unclear why a green skin will change to purple the next day
Although some will keep their skin for weeks, but those who did
Maybe are related to the green snake which lives by the pond 
Now I look at you petty human
And I think you are ridiculous
Walking shabbily on two legs,
Having no feather or plumage,
Having no wings or beak
But a big round balloon as head
And a goofy rude look as face!


Musing:  Stressful Days


Stressful days take away the joy in my evening meals

With back aches and a weakened body I struggle to feed

When the day is spent and my thoughts long for my needs, 

The stress will then set in; feverish and broken feelings


Before this noon, I have had some tea and milk

And had walked under the suns heat for long

I had endured the malevolent Harmattan wind

And those combo has made me very weak


Now look at my face, see how I show my fatigue

The long lines and the pain Stress has caused it, 

She has taken my strength and flung it to the wind
And had made me a refugee in my own body


Musing: The Ostrich


To you my feathery friend, I write

In the greying fields, your fur I sight

Dangling by your sides are your wings

Your neck is up, for a long time you sing


Caw caw, caw caw those are your favorite words

The wind is your friend, the soil is your playground

The shrub is your hideout, to it you run for safety

Your legs are very strong, your claws are even deadly


In the evenings, the farm fields are your runway

You send stray rats and rodents scampering away

I am not ashamed of you having a bard head

But you my fluffy friend, you are a wonderful bird


In the morning your queer scent fill the farmyard

Your presence serves as scarecrow for our land

But to have you around, beautiful and tall bird 

Is a musing of its own, one that is absolutely good


The Rainbow, 1st


The rainbow is my favorite color 

Her beauty radiates upon the cloud

Dressed like a man wearing a talisman

Savoring the scent of the sweet airs, 

A mirage because the rain won’t fall after all

There sits the rainbow across the firmaments

Watching quietly, observing the rules of the airs

Belittling the heights of the hills and mountains

Shading the greenery with a new look of aura

One to be seen in a long while, a perfect acquaintance 

The green is spirogyric, fading with the suns heat

The blues are epileptic, exploding without remorse

The yellows invisible, trying to hide from the group

And the red, painful, like a heartbroken soul 

The colors mingle with one another, raising hopes

The green fields of wheat turn gold with time

The dirt path glowing each time the rain goes

Image from


My muse: Rejoice

My heart rejoices, but why I can not say! 

The sun has risen, the land is golden

The firmaments are bright, blue and grey

Dews melt, trees dance, flowers open
I rejoice for the lights which has come

For the love which I see all about me

For the little fine hamlet I call home

I rejoice for her numerous diversity
So today I dance to the rhythms in my head

In my absent privacy, I admire my hip hop

Desiring nothing but this feeling of good

Deep down me I change my dance steps
So today, I amuse myself with myself

I laugh at my stupidity and my bravery

I teach my wild spirit how to be herself

And teach my hands to tend to poetry


Another August Night, a birthday song


I hear the wind howl through the gaps again

Calling out, solemnly to the young evening 

I hear your name being sung, by the days rhyme 

Ten thousand voices; everything singing at the same time


Cold evening begat bright celebrations

Hopeful; boxes of joy, gifts from the heart

Green colors, smell of sweet vegetables 

Purple hues, flowers and nice fragrances 

Yellow and pink, cute dresses suggested

But orange is for you, when you blush 


And to end this little musing of mine… 

Let the Heavens remember your days song

Let your wishes come true today and always
I wish you a happy birthday… 

Note : Today the 16th of August, I pen this poem to celebrate a childhood friends birthday. I wish you a Happy birthday, Juliet Okoko. I wish you long life, prosperity and much more. 😊 Happy celebration. 


Amuse: I

The sun set behind me
I see my shadows in front of me
It was just evening fast approaching
I was a traveler known to myself
Running from the world, living in my own

I walk the hard way, to come back for more another day
Though trying to cut of every dismay felt, I must say

No one cares, no one wants to share
Painting the dying world, yet no one says a word

So I hide myself in my confidence, one on Gods providence
Hoping to see the light, never to give up the fight

But I sat in the dark thinking I would become the Batman
When myself will humbly say, ”it is not possible good brother
You can’t make a difference sitting in one quiet spot”

So I stopped running…


Teach my Heart

Reach my hands
Help me stand firm
Draw me close to Your embrace
Let me see the beauty of Yout Love

Teach my heart
To do the needful
To slay not time in any way
But to master the seasons of wealth

Touch my words
That I may speak only wisdom
Let my lips heal, paint love, draw warmth to all
Let my speech dry the tears of the broken

Take my feet to places,
Where the sands are gold
That I may behold beautiful lands
And savor the strength of the young Cheetah

Give me strength, give me…
Trust me with Your power
That I may soar above the skies
Let me be what Your Love is


The moon and night plays

Yells, cries of children disturb the nights silence
In the moonlight they dance, they play in the distance

Casting shadows upon the lonely tree’d pathway
Tumbling on sands, caring not for neither man nor scorpion
They make figures, people and tall castles of clay
Happily they yell, desiring nothing under the queer moon

Meanwhile the wind blow, the mosquitoes flee
Wild trees swerve like a mad reggae dancer
Children noises mix with the dancing windy trees
As the young night went black and darker


Amuse: February Harmattan

Harbinger of Sahara news, king of the queer dust I hail you
Your entourage of heavy sand storms and dunes
Display her works of art on our glass windows and faces
You give us wonderful attire, a ghostly look

We wonder, we make guesses of why you love the dust
She paints everything; flowers, careless food, the pond
And worst of all, the innocent faces we carry about
But when your strength goes, we have air void of your asunder

The feet crack, the lips go extremely dry
No one knows your origin, even the nomads
The camels, the horses smell you and grunts hard
And when your dust meets our water, it gives another scent

Where the rivers flow, you carry your dust to
So if we escaped from your the city’s airy dust
We run into the embrace of the river mudded clay
Trees stand aghast, confused of what is becoming

But alas, you come and go
You and your cruel crew
So where next are you going to,
And why must you paint us so?

Nature Uncategorized

The Tree leaves fall

Permit me a sec before reading this piece.

I am pained to see the world destroy green life, I feel the grieve of these wonderful creatures, I feel even worse knowing I might not be able to save all the trees from the cruelty of my own kind. You all know that the trees are our best companion on Earth. Destroying them for some purposes, both reasonable and unreasonable can be our own undoing. These trees supply us with our very own air of vitality (oxygen), so please can we imagine a world without trees and say no to injustice meted on this fair companions of ours? I am taking this time to write this piece in dedication to all trees and green life, to all who see the need to protect trees and make efforts to save them.


Can you see the green leaves fall

When the tree logs fell,

Behind your window or right in your garden,

By the side of your garage or on the park nearby?

The leaves fall quietly from the trees

They fall solemnly, quietly

Swinging from a branch to another

Joyfully, weightlessly, 

Not discerning why it had to fell

 Not discerning the fault of the real world

But admiring the darkening world

And sharing in her downfall a tear

But a falling tree leaf never signify our downfall

But what will a million tree leaves look like

When they fall from the skies,

Happily admiring the dark Earth

Which we live, love and crave?

image from


Amuse: Poetale of a town boy


I have become the village belle

Just that in fact, I am not a girl

Nene was so good in eulogizing me

She sang of my praises even when I did nothing

She told the villagers about my escapades in the city

She told them of my big eye glasses and how it fit my face

And how it seem that the glasses wore the face instead

Now she told them the stories I was ashamed to tell

And how I wore long pants with a string they call beletu

Okay, the sweet memories I kept in this hamlet

Seem to outweigh my disapproval of the city life

I forgot that picking other peoples mango fruits

Was a great taboo, if so I am guilty… I just remembered

When the evenings came in the countryside

Nene will be the first to come take me for a walk

She will tell me to hide in the tree silhouettes

And not to let the wild boys of the hamlet see me

Why she said so I can not really tell

Well, I could feel the boys treat me with distaste

The evening was not like the town nights

The hamlets were lighted with the kerosene lamps

And smell of peoples dinner rented the air,

As we passed some of the windows on the huts

Nene will tell me, hold your nose akpiri

And she will laugh out loud in the darkness

I see her white teeth shine but not her

For Nene was chocolate brown and the night will not discover her

The trek to the village square were they sold palm beer and pork,

Where Mallams sold also the tasteful Suya which scatter my head

Was quite interesting… crickets buzzed in the darkness

And bright stars glittered up the dark, cloudy skies

Nene will let me use my little savings to buy those sweet things

And she will yell out big brother each time she wanted to deceive me

But the pain always was to go home when it was time,

When we returned from our evening walks

For warm showers and spicy hot soups

I feel the joys that come with me staying away from the city


Beletu: Belt

Akpiri: long throat

Suya: grilled meat with crushed ground nuts and spices.

Image designed by petro:


I wish

I wish I could smile forever
Sometimes it does not come so
I wish I was to pick comely flowers
Out in the fields where grain grow

I wish I could help the dying world
Though it seems some wish otherwise
I wish the nights are free of the cruel cold
For those who have no shelter or house

I wish that mankind loves one another
And help to wipe tears of the oppressed
I wish that it would rain and the waters
To the hungry lands of the farms flood

I wish I could ride a white horse on a joyful hue
In the lonely mornings thru the countryside
I wish you could see how much I loved you
And that nothing would make me leave your side